


Trials and Tribulations

by EveasaurousRex



Series: Trials and Tribulations [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Loki Feels, Loki/Original Male Character father/son relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveasaurousRex/pseuds/EveasaurousRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - "Raising kids is part joy and part guerrilla warfare." - Ed Asner A story in which Loki learns the joy of being a parent, the heartbreak, and the lengths a father will go to protect his son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

November, 1999

Loki hummed a bit as he stepped foot on Midgard, his feet not hesitating once as the portal closed behind him without sound. He did look over his shoulder to make sure that the tree he had emerged from was once again normal, then turned back when it was. His clothing shifted as he continued his way through the woods, turning from Asgardian casual, to human. Black jeans with a dark grey sweatshirt, a hunter green scarf wrapped around his neck. He manifested himself gloves, since winter in the northern United States was always a bit nippy. He spent a few moments breathing in the air and reacquainting himself with the flow of energy on this world, as his boots crunched in the thin crust of snow.

It had always been a pleasant shock to his system coming here. Even the energy of the giant redwoods he was surrounded by were bursting with the hot rush of _life_ , unlike the stagnancy of Asgard. He smiled slightly and paused, closing his eyes as he inhaled the rich, crisp air. Feeling nothing around him for miles, he gathered his own energy, and teleported.

He appeared in the small apartment that he rented for himself whenever he was in New York. He took his wallet from a spell sealed safe, the keys, and was out the door.

His first stop was a small café down the street, that used a distinct espresso that he hadn't been able to find anywhere else. Then he took to wandering as he left a generous tip, smirking against the rim of his cup when the young cashier gaped at him stupidly.

He took in the ever changing sights and sounds, letting it relax him and take him away from the day to day drama that was Asgard.

His brother was going to be crowned king soon, within a decade he reasoned. Bitterness twisted his insides at the thought, anger flaring the more he thought on his brother. Thor was a spoiled, loud, stupid man, who didn't have the smarts to rule Asgard. He would be a better choice, if only Odin would see it. Frigga often commented on how much Thor could learn from him, but the oaf refused to take advice from his weaker sibling.

He snorted into his cup, smiling slightly at a woman who gave him an appraising look before moving on. Thor had no clue how much strength it took to use sorcery; to bend and shape it to his will without the use of incantations or hand gestures. Unlike those ridiculous people that called themselves sorcerers, he had actually taken the time to sit down and study it in depth, to actually learn how it works and flows. No one else could claim that feat.

With a mental groan he shoved the thoughts aside, sitting on a bench in Time Square. He came to Midgard to forget his problems in Asgard, not to think more about them. He finished his coffee as dusk fell upon the city, and snow began to fall again. He stood and threw the cup away, wandering over to a news vendor and bought the day's paper, deciding to catch up on what he had missed since he had last been here.

Tony Stark was still making weapons and being a drunk, genius playboy, something that he hadn't expected to change. He hummed to himself and flipped a page. Stark Industries had come a long way from when Howard Stark was at its helm, even though it was still primarily a weapons company.

He read about the advancements of science and only briefly glanced over the politics and entertainment sections. Smiling slightly at the older man that sold him the paper, he slipped him a 100 dollar bill, and walked away quickly before he had time to say anything. He got some food, and stayed in the small diner until well past midnight, nursing cups of cappuccino. The night life of Time Square always fascinated him, and as the night grew darker and colder, he amused himself with thinking up random stories of the people he saw.

It was around 3:30 am, when even the Square was quiet and only a few people were out and about that he left, leaving a generous tip. Despite what his family thought of Midgard, he admired the mortals and their everyday struggle to make ends meet. They only had a short time to live, and they usually tried to make the best of it. He was envious of them too. They lived everyday as though it was their last, while he had infinite days to look forward to. Infinite days of being talked down to, to being regulated to the shadows, to always being second best-

A short scream snapped him out of his dark thoughts, and he frowned as he looked down an alley he was passing. A hiccupping sob hit his ears, from a boy, probably no older than eight. For a moment he fought with himself as to whether he should interfere, but then a quiet 'Please stop,' decided it for him.

He strode down the alley and turned the corner, sorcery already flitting around his gloved fingers, and any thought of speaking went out the window at what he saw.

The two men were dead before they even got a chance to pull their pants up, dropping to the ground with a bolt of electricity to their hearts. Face first on the ground was a child – he had been _right_ , damnit, he looked 5 or 6 – sobbing into the dirty snow as hot blood ran freely down his legs.

Swallowing a snarl of disgust and rage, he carefully schooled his features and knelt down next to the boy, reaching out to heal him on instinct. He sighed and winced when the child scooted away, trying to yank up his pants with one hand, odd yellow eyes bright with fear behind lanky red hair.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you," he said soothingly, holding out a hand with what he hoped was a calming smile. His heart was twisting inside him. Some may call him heartless, but he hated it when harm came to a child. However, after a long moment of the boy just staring at him, he lost what bit of patience he had and stood. "If that's how you want it then."

He turned away and took one step, then nearly crashed into the wall as desperate arms wrapped around his legs. He looked down, and the boy had his face pressed into the back of one knee, arms shaking as they held onto his legs with fierce intensity. With another inaudible sigh, he gently extracted the child but didn't let go of him, instead lifted him into his arms. He winced with sympathy as the child gave a small cry at the movement, but it was nothing to hold him with one arm and fully pull the boys pants up with the other.

With a quick look around he conjured a coat for the boy and draped it over him, and then set off with purposeful strides out of the alley. "Where are your parents child?"

"I…sent me here."

He almost tripped at that, stopping and looking down with something like astonishment. "Where are you from?"

"Ireland." That explained the accent then.

"Where are _they_?"

"…still there…" The voice grew to a whisper, and Loki actually had to fight with himself not to demand an address. He grinned mentally, uncaring how unhinged it looked to even him, as he started walking again. He might do that anyway, at a later date.

He walked and silently fumed, quickly heading through deserted side streets. He was almost at the apartment building when the child spoke up again.

"Um, where are we?"

Loki huffed, using a quick bit of sorcery to open the door and began up the stairs. "My apartment."

"Oh."

He hated how light the boy was. He felt as though all it would take is Loki to tighten his hold, and he'd break like a mirror hitting the floor.

Finally they were in his apartment, and he took the boy directly to the bathroom. He could already feel the front of his shirt soaked in blood, and knew the boy would want to take a shower after being healed. He set him in the bathtub, taking hold of the thin chin and making him look up.

"I'll be right back. I'm only going to change clothes." He waited until the boy nodded and stood, turning quickly so he wouldn't see the large red stain. He waited until he was out of sight before vanishing them and conjuring new ones.

Suddenly there was sorcery in the air, foreign, unlike anything he had ever felt before. He immediately conjured a skintight shield around himself, walking backwards towards the bathroom as he continuously scanned the apartment, sending his own power out to try and find the source. When he did, he whipped around and froze.

The boy was sitting in the tub with his knees clenched tightly to his chest, breathing far too heavily and fast, pupils blown wide. Completely untrained sorcery was snapping around him like a live beast, and Loki was glad of his own shield as he walked in. It tried to bite him, warning him off, but he would have none of it. He knelt down next to the tub, and grabbed the boys shoulders harshly, shaking him.

"Snap out of it child!" he growled, and felt relief when those eyes snapped to him. He barely had a moment to thicken his shield when a blast of pure power caught him and sent him into the wall, doing no damage to him. He lowered his arms, glaring, but the child was staring at him with a look of horror, fear, and shame. His glare immediately melted away to nothing.

"I-I'm s-s-so s-sorry!" he stammered, as Loki calmly picked himself out of the rubble. With a wave of his hand he cleaned off the dust and plaster, and repaired the wall. He couldn't help a smug smirk when the boys eyes widened. "You're…you're magic too?"

"I am," he admitted with a bit of pride, going over and kneeling once again next to the tub. Then he looked into the amber eyes and grew serious. He hadn't seen the color clear in the darkness, but now he saw the signs. Vibrant, unnaturally colored eyes were a mark of a sorcerer. Even the incompetents on Asgard had brighter eyes then the normal populace.

"And so are you. That is why you are here, is it not?" It wasn't really a question, and he didn't need the answering flinch to know it was true. He had his own experiences with budding sorcery.

He hummed softly. "Do you trust me enough to allow me to heal you?"

The boy didn't say anything, but gritted his teeth and nodded. Loki didn't ask again, knowing from the growing panic that this would be his only chance. He slowly sank his sorcery into the child's skin, and winced mentally when it came in contact with the boys own sorcery. At least now he knew what he was dealing with. A mortal that held sorcery like his own. He waited calmly until it accepted that he meant no harm, and finally began to heal what damaged the boy.

"What's your name child?" he asked quietly, as a way to distract him from the sensation of being put back together.

"Arawn."

Loki waited, and frowned. "Do you have no surname, Arawn?" The way he'd pronounced it – A-rahn – was pure Irish. And the name was so familiar…

"…no."

"Did you have no father then?" The boy turned his head away, looking at the far wall. Loki was done healing him, so he removed his hands and placed them on his lap.

"Had a dad," he finally said, voice rougher then before. "And a mom, and family aye, but these stupid eyes and stupid magic are wrong!"

"And what is wrong with your eyes, pray tell?" he asked, a bit amused, a bit bitterly. He only smiled a bit wider when the boy glared at him, amber eyes fierce. He could tell now that they were truly amber, only a few shades darker then yellow, with the faintest flecks of hazel. His smile fell as he leaned forward, deliberately opening his eyes a bit more so the boy could take in the bright, unnatural green of his own eyes.

"They're stupid! Just like yours!"

Loki knew the boy was only lashing out, so held back the sharp retort on his own lips. Instead, a sigh escaped like a hiss. "They are a sign of sorcery child, having eyes like we do. That does not make them _stupid_." He growled the last word, clearly showing his disgust of it. He had heard enough of that while on Asgard. He would not hear it in this realm.

Arawn flinched slightly, but didn't back down. "Magic is bad too! That's why they sent me here, so I won't hurt anyone again!" His eyes widened, and quickly looked away. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Who did you hurt young one?" Loki asked quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Um…no one," he returned petulantly, glaring down at the bottom of the tub.

Loki sighed _again_ , and finally stood. "Take a shower, and I will retrieve some clean clothing for you. Then bed."

Without waiting for the boy to respond, he stood and swept out of the room, closing the door behind him. He waited until he heard the clothes hit the floor with the grumbling and the shower start, before walking to the kitchen and conjuring some clothes that would fit. Then he went about making some hot tea. By the time it was done, the shower still wasn't off, and he could admit to himself that he was slightly worried. He had been with countless rape victims afterwards, and knew that they felt they could never get clean enough.

People were always willing to pay the price of his power.

With a frown he opened the bathroom door, and was hit with a wall of steam. With another annoyed sigh he waved his hand, smirking at the yelp when the water turned freezing. He walked in and slid the curtain open, forcing yet another sigh down at the boiled red color of the boys skin. Instead he growled slightly. It was a simple touch and a flash of sorcery that healed the burned skin, and then he all but dragged the boy out of the shower, ignoring the sputtering that he got. He gave Arawn the clothes, fixing him with a stern look.

"Put these on and then come to the kitchen. I have tea made." He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the boy as he grumbled and put the clothing on, then smirked when he got an annoyed, challenging look in return.

They went to the kitchen and Loki poured the tea, wondering what he was going to do with the child. He didn't want to leave him here, not without someone to look after him, and had heard enough about the child services of Midgard to refuse to leave Arawn in their care. Not with his ability to perform sorcery. Yet if he took him to Asgard…he sighed, and Arawn gave him a curious look.

He decided to elaborate. No one would believe him anyway if he stayed in the realm. "Have you any knowledge of the Norse legends?"

"You mean, like Thor, Odin, and all of that?"

"Yes."

"Well, just what I learned in school, that's it."

"Do not believe everything that school tell you, Arawn," he began, pouring himself another cup of tea, and one for the boy when the cup was held out. "Most of the stories are not true. However, I can tell you that the Nine Realms does indeed exist. I am from Asgard, and my name is Loki."

The amber eyes went wide. "The god Loki? The Trickster?"

His lips twitched into a smirk. He so loved having his ego stroked. "Yes, that one. I often come to Midgard to get away from Asgard and my oaf of a brother. What concerns me now, is what I am going to do with you."

"Take me with you."

Loki narrowed his eyes in surprise at the breathed words. "You would not want to stay here? This _is_ your home."

"This is _not_ my home! Not anymore!" The young voice cracked on the last word, and Loki found himself staring into desperate, almost panicked eyes.

And just like that, seeing the pure emotion there, he made his decision.

That was a look he had seen all too often in a mirror.

"We will stay here a few more days, and then go. It will give me time to acquaint you with what my home is like." He stood, and gave the stunned child a small smile. "Now, it is time for bed."

He went without argument.


	2. Family Time

### ~Chapter One~

Several days passed, and then weeks before Loki really began to realize it. It was so very easy for him to slip into the role of teacher once he had a pupil who was eager to learn. It was very frustrating however, since Arawn wasn't a natural to using sorcery as Loki was. It had taken him a week to teach a simple fire spell that he had mastered in a day. It wasn't because Arawn wasn't powerful, it was the exact opposite actually, but a pure mental block that he had put there himself. The boy had grown up thinking that his power was evil, and that he should never touch it, much the same way his own people had treated his power. Loki had refused to listen, where Arawn had soaked it all in.

It was going to be very hard to break that barrier down, but watching the boy now, he knew it wouldn't take very long.

While Loki was a natural, the boy had the tenacity of a fighting dog, and refused to back down from trying to get his sorcery to work for him. Every day he pushed himself to the limit, and every day, Loki was reaffirmed that taking the child under his wing was a good choice. For himself, and Arawn.

It also helped that Arawn was a very fast learner, and a true genius. At least when he came to everything but sorcery. He winced mentally when Arawn's latest try ended in a curse.

"You're breathing to fast," he commented softly, his sorcery a steady green ring around them. He didn't have anyone to protect him from his own sorcery, and he would be damned before he let Arawn enjoy the backlash of untrained power like he had. "You need to keep calm."

"I am calm," the boy ground out, shooting a glare at him before closing his eyes again and starting the exercise all over again.

Loki smirked but said nothing further. It was up to Arawn to figure out how his sorcery worked, since Loki could give him _ways_ to do things, but not _how_. Instead, he split his attention between Arawn and the life that surrounded them.

They were among the giant redwoods, deep in the forest where nothing but animals roamed. He had contemplated – a few times, actually – on conjuring a wild animal to scare Arawn, but had decided against it. The boy didn't do so well with surprises, he had found out. The second time had been rather painful, involving a fried toaster and a dive to the floor.

There was a gasp, and Loki's attention immediately focused as Arawn's sorcery flexed differently than before. For a brief moment, the stones and branches in the circle levitated, before falling back to the ground. The sorcery winked out too. He nodded with a small smile of encouragement.

"Did you feel it? There are two different ways of controlling sorcery. Inwards, like when you create something, and outwards, when you effect something externally."

"Yea…I get it. Wow." His eyes shifted to a rather large stone by his knee, and his eyes narrowed in concentration. There was a brief shine of yellow light in his eyes, and the stone wobbled into the air. Then it dropped and Arawn leaned forward, gasping for air like he had run a marathon. In a way, he had.

Loki couldn't help it, he laughed. The affronted look he got in return only made it deepen. Arawn was red down to his chest by the time he stopped, wiping a small tear from his eye.

"My apologies. It will get easier in time." A single flex of his pupils was all the warning he gave, and the same stone zipped to the middle of the circle. It began to spin around in a tight spiral, drawing dust and debris. It slowly rose up, the circle widening and everything following it, until a small tornado erupted. He snickered and dropped the power as Arawn backed away, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. "Though it is much harder to move an object, then it is to create one."

Arawn frowned. "That was hard for you too?"

"Yes, though it will be awhile before you have that level of control." He smirked arrogantly at the pout, but acknowledged the fire of challenge with a nod of his head. "You can get there, if you ever want to beat me."

"I can beat you now!" The boy looked sick as soon as the words came out, and even more so when Loki smiled lazily.

"Is that so?" He rose fluidly to his feet, and banished the circle with a wave of his hand. "You can't beat me even if I only use one hand."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Arawn scrambled to his feet though, face burning with indignation.

He only cocked an eyebrow at the outburst. "How is it not?"

"You're like, centuries older then I am!"

His grin was sharp. "We all have to start somewhere. I bet you can't even lay a finger on me."

He was shocked as those eyes filled with tears, the first time he had seen them since that first night. "I don't…"

"Arawn, I-"

He stood shocked as the boy dashed in, pressing a single finger to his stomach and looking up with an impish grin. "So, what do I get?"

"Why you little whelp," he muttered, a grin slowly crossing his face. Moving swiftly, he grabbed him up and started digging his fingers into sensitive sides.

Laughter rang through the trees, two different tones, and both high and free.

**[x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]**

It was several months later as Midgard was turning from winter to spring, that he finally decided Arawn was ready to go to Asgard with him. His training was advancing at a steady pace now, and he was able to use a few defensive and offensive spells. They would serve him well on Asgard, for the times when Loki couldn't be around the boy. That is, if he could convince his family to allow him to stay.

He glanced down at the boy – and he was a boy, only 6. "Are you ready?"

His jaw was set stubbornly, even those his eyes shone with fear and anxiety. "Yea."

So he set up the portal with his one free hand, the other squeezing reassuringly around a smaller one, and they stepped through.

It wasn't a moment later that they emerged into his own chambers inside the palace. He held Arawn as the boy stumbled, smirking when the green faced child made a flying leap for the bathroom. As he got sick, Loki went to a door that led to the chambers next to his, and began to clean. With lazy flicks of his hands the dust was soon gone, new drapes were over the windows, and a new bed. It used to be Sigyn's rooms, but he knew that she would never be back in them.

He smiled over his shoulder when Arawn crossed the threshold.

"BROTHER!"

He flinched as the words bounced through the rooms, and wrapped an arm around slender shoulders as the boy flew at him, clutching his waist. The door to his chambers opened and in walked Thor, a brilliant smile on his face. Loki braced himself as his brother saw him, and then Arawn.

His immediate family were the only ones who knew of his jaunts into the mortal realm, and his brother had taken it upon himself to welcome Loki back whenever his presence was sensed back in the palace. Even if their father had forbidden him to go.

"And who is this brother? A human child?" His voice did get quieter, Loki was glad to hear, as he crouched down to Arawn's height.

"No, it is a horse in disguise." He rolled his eyes when Thor looked at him in surprise, smirking at the muffled snort he got from the boy. "Yes Thor. This is Arawn."

"Good tidings young Arawn! I am Thor, Loki's older brother! Welcome to Asgard! Brother, come, we must go see father and mother. You're back in time for dinner!" He stood and without waiting, swept out of the room.

Loki huffed a sigh and waved a hand, changing his clothes into what the Æsir considered normal. Black leggings with knee high boots, and a soft green pullover. He changed Arawn's as well, except gave him a blue shirt instead. When he looked down, he blinked and sank to his knees in front of the boy, resting his hands on his shoulders.

"I apologize if he upset you," he said quietly, reaching out and wiping a tear away. Arawn shook his head and threw his arms around his neck, hugging tightly.

"I'm scared," he whispered, and Loki sighed. He stood, cradling the still too small frame in his arms.

"There is nothing to be scared of child. If they do not allow you to stay, then we will make our home on Midgard."

He had guessed correctly about where the fear was coming from when he stilled in his arms. "You…you won't just send me back?"

Loki couldn't help but chuckle as he exited their rooms and shut the door with sorcery. He was surprised to see Thor standing there, arms crossed and eyes soft.

"No Arawn," he said quietly, steely, while holding Thor's gaze. "I will not just send you back. I will not leave you alone."

There was a silent staring contest, and Thor was the first to break it. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled, voice soft. "I will stand by your side brother. I will not allow them to take such a good influence away from you."

Loki snorted at that, covering the swell of grateful emotion he felt. He hadn't been sure how Thor would react when he came home, but now he was happy his brother was the first he had introduced Arawn to.

"I would be more worried about my influence on him, not the other way around."

That got a laugh from Thor, and a soft giggle from the boy in his arms. "Aye brother, that is true."

Loki only listened with one ear as his brother spoke about things that had happened while he had been gone, smirking in amusement when he got to Sif.

"She is most aggravated with you brother. You'll soon have to change her hair back or risk her blade through your ribs." Thor's grin was wide.

Before he could reply there was a growl from his arms and powerful, but still unstable sorcery flitted over his skin, like a shield. He paused and looked down, and had to smile at the fierce, protective glare Arawn was giving Thor.

"Arawn," he said softly, and the boy looked up at him. "What Thor said was in jest." Mostly. Not really. "Lady Sif is no danger to me." That one was true however. The magic subsided.

"That is very true, young Arawn," Thor added, his voice softer but thick with amusement. "None can match my brother except for me."

"I still come out even in our matches, brother," Loki said with a smirk, beginning to walk again to their parents private chambers. It was a daily occurrence to eat dinner with them, away from the throngs of people seeking an audience. He only hoped it wouldn't turn into a fight. It was a wish that he knew would never be fulfilled.

He sighed as they reached the door, hesitating at the threshold. Arawn sensed it and gave him a quizzical look, but Thor understood. A large hand rested on his shoulder, the blue eyes of his brother understanding.

"Do not worry over it brother," he said softly, and Loki only gave him a scathing, skeptical look as he pushed open the door. They were immediately greeted by their mother.

"Loki, Thor, my sons. And who is this little one?" Loki had to smother a grin as curious amber eyes peeked through the unruly red curls at his mother. She always did have an easy charm about her.

"Mother, father, this is Arawn. He is a human that I saved from two…unsavory characters." He and Thor exchanged a look, and he nodded to the question he saw. Thor's eyes blazed in righteous anger even as his jaw firmed, but he said nothing.

"He is also a powerful sorcerer, just like you my son," Frigga said gently, smiling kindly at the boy. "Now, Arawn, would you like some dinner?"

Arawn immediately began to struggle in his arms, and with a chuckle he set the boy down. He took Frigga's hand as she led them to the table where their father sat, and he followed, unnerved by his father's silence.

Dinner was comprised of Frigga asking Arawn questions, and being properly awed when she asked him to show her some of the things he had been taught. The conversation was lively between four of them, and Loki couldn't help but glance at Odin every now and then. His father was silent the entire time, watching the boy and in turn, his own sons.

Dessert was gone by the time Odin finally said something, and it was the beginning of the fight he had hoped to avoid.

"He cannot stay here my son."

Loki's jaw clenched, but it was Thor who said something first. "He is but a child father! And a powerful sorcerer! His mortality is of no consequence if we give him a golden apple!"

Loki just closed his eyes – brash, stubborn Thor – muttering 'Damn' under his breath, and the two began to argue. Finally, when Arawn began to look truly scared and even his mother was gritting her teeth, he snapped a bolt of power at Thor, causing his brother to shut up immediately. Thor gave him a wounded look, that he only returned levelly. Then he looked at Odin.

"If he cannot stay here, then I will return to Midgard with him. I will not leave him alone again." His words were firm and had no hesitation, because he felt none. He stared straight into Odin's one blue eye, not flinching even when it narrowed in anger.

"You bring a mortal into our home, after deliberately disobeying my orders and going to Midgard. You're pranks have gone too far this time Loki. You are close to committing treason by even thinking of making him Æsir."

His jaw clenched as his anger unfolded, scalding in its coldness. " _Forgive_ me then father, for doing the right thing. I had believed that giving him a family after the other _threw him away_ would be for the best. I see now that I was wrong." He stood then, and held out a hand. Arawn immediately came over and took it, burying his face in the cloth of his shirt.

He tensed when Odin stood, subtly stepping in front of the boy.

"If you do not take him back, I will do it myself, even if I have to go through you my son!"

That did it. He smiled maliciously, feeling his bitterness and anger give way to a sort of rabid protectiveness of the boy clinging to him. His sorcery flared from him, wreathing himself and Arawn in an ethereal emerald light that snapped and hissed like a snake.

"Can you, father? If you lay one finger on him-"

"You won't hurt my dad!"

Loki blinked, head snapping down to look at Arawn. He had stepped in front of Loki, and his own sorcery was pulsing around him, powerful yet unstable, unlike the smooth glide of his emerald.

"Arawn," he whispered, stunned and off kilter at what the boy had called him.

Arawn, however, wasn't listening. His little fists were clenched tightly, and he was glaring at Odin with all his might. It would have been comical if not for the pure destructive power of his sorcery. "You won't hurt him! I won't let you! He saved me, and he taught me, and he did more for me then my real family! Why do you have to be so…so…MEAN?!"

The last words was screamed, and Loki had to throw up a quick shield to contain the blast. Arawn rocked back on his heels, and Loki put a stabilizing hand on his shoulder. The boy didn't go down though, even though sweat was pouring down his face and he looked exhausted. He stayed on his feet and kept glaring at Odin, obviously expecting an answer.

"Do you think of him as your father, boy?" Odin asked quietly, shocking them all. Arawn most of all, because he nearly fell then, frowning in confusion.

"What?"

"Do you think of him as your father?"

"Well...yea. He's my dad. He's been teaching me how to control my sorcery, and cooking me dinner, and taking me to the playground. So…yea." He gave Odin a look that screamed 'No shit.'

Loki strangled a hysterical laugh, calling more of his power to the surface in preparation for Odin to try and take them down. He knew this would just give his father more fuel to tear them apart…

Then Odin surprised them all. He smiled. "Welcome to our family, Arawn Lokison." While everyone stared at him in shock, he stood and walked out of the door.

Loki's knees were threatening to give out, so he let them on the pretense of grabbing the boy and wrapping him up in a tight hug. Arawn returned it immediately. "Do you really see me as your…dad?"

"Yea…is that ok?"

Loki closed his eyes, and almost lost the battle with his tears when he felt Thor's supportive hand on his shoulder, and his mothers on the other.

"Yes Arawn. That is very ok," he whispered, and the hug only tightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally posted this on the 31st of October, because that is Arawn's birthday, and I wanted to give him a present. Dec. 1st will be the next chapter, or as soon as I get it finished.


	3. Learning Curve

**June 2009**

The next ten years passed as calmly as they could for master and apprentice, father and son. It was strangely…normal. If what they were passed as anything relating to the word.

They actually began to spend their time between the two worlds, when a few months after returning to Asgard, Arawn had shown an interest in mortal schooling. 

_“You want to go to school on Midgard?” Loki’s voice was thick with disbelief, the book in his hand forgotten as he stared at his son. Secretly, he had known this was coming. He had watched the fight in the boys eyes for the past few weeks, as life there settled around them heavily. “Why would you ever want to?”_

_Arawn just glared at him, and then went back to making a yellow flame dance on the tips of his fingers. “It was fun. And…I want to make friends, like me,” he added softly. He wouldn’t tell his father that he missed the presence of his own world. He was pretty sure his dad already knew._

_Loki just frowned, and then shrugged as he went back to reading. He had already talked to Odin a few days ago, anticipating that this would happen. His father had regrettably – seeming, at least – admitted that it might be a good idea. “That will be doable. We can spend the school months on Midgard, and come back here for holidays and weekends.” Suddenly, he had an armful of smiling child._

_“Really dad? You’d live in Midgard with me?”_

_Loki just smiled indulgently, gripping the boy tighter and pulling him into his lap. He would do anything for this surprisingly bright star in his life, guiding his way, making him into the man he wanted to be, not one people believed him to be. “Of course. You’re my son Arawn, and if this is something that you want to do, we will do it. If you’re sure.”_

_The beaming smile and joyful eyes was all the answer he needed._

And so that was how Loki found himself going to meetings, and having to beat off women with sticks as they came after him like rabid dogs. ( _“No miss, I do not have a wife. We divorced some years ago. No, I am not interested in a date.”_ ) They found themselves a modest house that wasn’t too far away from the school Arawn picked, with no neighbors for miles. ( _“Are you sure this is what you want Mr. Hunter?” “Yes, this is perfect.”_ ) It was secluded, which was a stipulation of Loki’s when he spoke to the realtor, so they wouldn’t have to worry about people seeing them practice sorcery.

Life went on, year after year, with the summer holidays spent in Asgard and teaching Arawn what it meant to be a prince. He took to it remarkably well, handling the pressures of being royalty with all the grace and elegance that Loki himself did. Unless he was passionate about something, and then the boy had a personality more like his uncle then father. 

_“But they’re not getting proper education grandfather!” Arawn said loudly, face turning red with his conviction. They had just eaten when Odin had asked the now 11 year old what he had learned in his weekly trip to the city below._

_“Oh? How is that?” Odin asked quietly, taking a drink of his mead and fixing his one eye on the boy._

_“They do not know math, or the proper way to write, or, or, anything I’ve learned!”_

_“Arawn, I need reasons for these subjects to be taught in our school, or I will not make the change.” Odin’s voice was quiet and commanding. “If you can prove that our world would be better off being taught these mortal subjects, then I will implement them.”_

_Arawn had stomped off in a huff after that, much to the amusement of the others sitting at the table._

He had. He had written a detailed report for all the things in Asgard that would benefit from being taught some of the subjects from Midgar. Within a year, bridges that had to be constantly repaired were steady, roads were no longer uneven, and even the method of cleaning and distributing water was better. However, despite his best efforts, no technology from Midgard would work on their world. Arawn spent an entire summer trying to get his cell phone to work – he had a girl he was head over heels for on Midgard – and finally resorted to simply writing her letters. 

It was also the first time someone said that he was as clever as his father. It made Loki swell with pride that his son was being so well received among his future subjects.

They had their ups and down, like any family. ( _“I hate you!” Arawn screamed. Loki ignored the stab to his heart, snorting. “Tough shit.” – “Dad, I had a nightmare,” Arawn whispered, and Loki just sighed, lifting up the blanket and letting his son curl into him. – “It’s my life! You’re not my real dad!” Arawn went pale right after he said it, but Loki just turned away, going back to putting the dishes in the dishwasher so Arawn wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “Dad…” “I’m not your father, remember?”_ ) They had gotten through it all, and came out stronger for it in the end. He had no clue how to raise a child, but as the years went on and he saw some of the kids Arawn went to school with, he had to admit that he felt like he had done a decent job. 

It didn’t help that his son was a certified genius, something they kept quiet upon Arawn’s request. He took to school and knowledge like a sponge to water, immersing himself in his studies of magic and math with equal vigor. There were many times that Arawn had to help him understand a bit of technology, much to his sons amusement.

One of his happiest memories came when Arawn was 14, and just entering high school. For a school project, they had to do a report on a member of their family, and bring them in to introduce them to the class. To this day Loki can’t forget his father’s face when Arawn turned those big puppy eyes on him in the throne room, and begged him to do the report.

_“I am not from Midgard Arawn. I cannot do this…project, as you call it.”_

_Loki was off to the side, hidden in the shadows with his mother and brother, all three of them red in the face from the effort they were making not to burst out in laughter. Odin’s face was tired, but they could all see the pleased look in his eyes as Arawn continued to argue his case._

_“But grandfather, you are one of the most interesting people I know. Aside from grandmother, that is,” he added hastily, eyes darting around and trying to see if they were there. Odin probably knew they were there, but Arawn’s sensing skills weren’t quite there yet. “You are a mighty warrior and scholar, and you love to spin tales. It will be just like an adventure grandfather! You can be whatever you want to be!”_

_He also learned the lessons from his father well._

_He gave Odin a beaming smile, and the three knew that Odin was lost even before he sighed, face crinkling into a smile._

_“So be it young one, if it means that much to you. I will do my research and find you before the end of day. Now go!” He made a shooing motion with his hand, and Arawn did a small happy dance before he bowed, and shot out of the throne room. As soon as the door was shut the three fell over each other, laughing until tears came from their eyes._

_Odin just glared at them. “Laugh now, my family, for you three will be helping me with this.”_

_That got them to stop._

_Except for Loki. Odin had no clue what he had just stepped into._

Loki had almost lost it again when his father had entered the classroom, looking decidedly out of place. He had changed his beard and hair to a shorter length, and his story was that he was in the Navy during the Vietnam War, which was how he lost his eye. Odin had never been one to pass up an audience, so as he spun tales for the enraptured teenagers and adults, his eye began to twinkle, and Loki could tell that his father was truly enjoying himself. 

After the day was done, Loki treated his father to a Midgard dinner and showed him the sights of New York. Arawn was more than happy to play host, and that day is one of the best that Loki can remember.

But then high school really began to get into swing, and Loki found himself attending football games and buying musical instruments, watching concerts and putting together food for a potluck. He actually caught himself one day, humming a catchy but annoying Midgard song, putting together a chicken recipe that his mother had given him. One of Arawn’s friends was coming over for dinner, Thor and his son were in the backyard practicing football – surprise surprise, Thor had gotten into the game – and he was _smiling_. 

He was content. He really couldn’t use happy, because in truth he wasn’t, but it was moments like these that he treasured. When he felt like he was Thor’s equal finally, and that it was Arawn that brought that out in him. 

Over the years, the relationship between Odin and himself had become strained to the point of breaking. While their father still spouted that either one of them could become king, there was no doubt who Odin would pick when the time came. Thor wielded Mjolnir, though it was of no consequence that Gungnir had awakened for him. Their fathers own spear had come to life in his hand a year before Thor had been able to pick up Mjolnir several centuries ago, and yet Thor was the clear winner. He and his brother had become closer, thanks to Arawn and their time in Midgard, and Loki wasn’t as envious as he used to be. It helped, having Thor spend so much time with them in Midgard. Mortals didn’t put as much stock into physical strength as they did that of the mind – and money. Loki Hunter had money, charisma, and the class to go with it all. 

On Midgard, he was the one revered, not Thor. Many of the people in their lives didn’t like his older brother, with his loud and brash ways. There were some, because Thor did have a sort of charm about him, but not many. It had been a rude awakening for his brother, one that Loki didn’t deny that he relished. Arawn was more sympathetic, but not by much. His son was growing to be a true prodigy.

It still hurt though, knowing that their father had already decided. Even Arawn had mentioned it, but Loki’s reaction had shut the conversation down quickly. No matter how hard he tried to prove to their father that he was worthy, that he was a good son, a good prince, a good father…it never was enough. It burned through his veins like acid, giving him thoughts that he should never entertain, and breeding a darkness in him that he couldn’t stop. 

It would only be a few months until Arawn graduated a year early, and four months after that when he would reach 17 years of age. It would be then that he would receive his golden apple, and truly become what he had been living with all these years. He was already his son in spirit, but now he would become his in blood as well. 

It would also be time for them to return to Asgard, on a permanent basis. Neither father or son were looking forward to it. Loki knew Thor would rope him and Arawn going on hunts with the other warriors, something that he always dreaded. Not out of fear for the creature, but for the sharp, cutting comments he would receive from their companions. Despite the equally deadly words he threw back, it still…sucked, as his son called it.

It was with pride that he watched his son walk across the stage, golden eyes glowing with pleasure and happiness. This was something his son had wanted to do, and he’d completed it with flying colors. Valedictorian, musician, and proud tech geek. It was of no consequence that he technically had already graduated high school, and technically college as well, though only a few months ago. It was by his sons wish that nothing was made public, so it wasn’t.

That night was the first time that Arawn went out to a party, and the first time he had slammed open the door with sorcery, and closed it just as hard. Thor and Loki had been sparring in the backyard when he burst in and stripped off his shirt. Without a word Arawn joined in, lashing out with brutal speed with fists and feet. It was so shocking with its intensity that the brothers responded in kind. It turned into a whirl of blood and feet and anger, until Arawn got Loki in the jaw with a foot, and Thor got the boy onto the ground. Arawn just grunted and stared up at the sky, not even making an attempt to stand, anger swirling hotly in his face.

“What the hell happened?” Loki demanded, wincing when talking made his bruised diaphragm protest.

“…go look at my car,” he finally ground out, and Loki snapped straight despite the pain. His strides took him around the house in no time, with Thor and Arawn following slowly. He hit the corner and stopped, jaw clenching tight. His sons pristine ’75 F-150, a machine that he had restored with his own hands, was completely destroyed. All of the lights were busted out, the front and rear windshield completely gone, and spray paint covered almost every inch. And words… _I’m going to kill these children_ , he thought with vicious coldness.

“What are their addresses?” he asked calmly, turning around to look at his son. Whatever he saw made Arawn growl and stagger over, weakly punching his chest.

“You’re not going to do anything dad. I walked away from them at the party, and you’re going to too. They’re not worth it.” 

“How can you say that?” he snapped hotly, waving a hand at the car. “They ruined it!”

“They didn’t do anything that can’t be fixed,” he said with a shrug, and his eyes were just begging him to believe it, to trust him.

“But…” He dropped his hand, not understand the sheer forgiveness that he was seeing. He would have rained fire and blood and sorcery to get back at the slight.

“But they only did superficial things, and its nothing that I can’t fix. I mean, dad, they’re just jealous because of how awesome I am.” His own cocky smirk was suddenly reflected back at him, and his anger suddenly deflated. Then he fixed Arawn with a sharp eye.

“You’re not letting them get away with this completely, are you?” he demanded, lips twitching when Thor laughed and his son actually cackled. There was no question that he didn’t know who had done it.

“Oh hell no. I’ve already got my plans for them set.” His eyes burned, quick and bright like a slashing knife. “It’s going to be epic.”

“Then you can handle this how you see fit my son,” he smirked, and went into the house for some ice and food, the other two following.

Thor left after that, promising to see them when they went back, a week before Arawn’s birthday on the 31st of October. For two months they traveled, seeing the different sights of the world, before being reduced to the monotony that was Asgard. China, Japan, France, New Zealand, even using sorcery to appear on the top of Mount Everest. It had been one of the most breath taking sights he had seen while on Midgard. 

He literally had to drag Arawn away from it. 

At the end of August they went back to their house, and Arawn had a surprise waiting for him. In the mail was a typed letter, with a phone number from one of the technology wizards that his son so admired. When he called, they set up an appointment to meet for dinner at the man’s office the next day. Arawn was a ball of energy the entire way, and strode into the building as though he owned it. He had the desk clerk charmed in a moment, and Loki grinned, watching the interplay. Then they were on the elevator, went through two more secretaries, and were finally seated in a lavish room with floor to ceiling windows looking over New York.

Then the door opened, and he turned with a polite smile. The man returned it, walking over and extending his hand.

“Tony Stark, nice to meet ya.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Preview for Chapter Three - 

“Then you need to call me Tony, or Stark, either one. Both of you.”

Loki nodded his head gracefully. “Very well Stark.” 

“Works for me Tony.” Arawn gave the inventor a shit eating grin.

Stark grinned widely, winking at Arawn before turning his full attention back to Loki. “Oh I like how you say that, Loki. Nice purr you’ve got.”

Loki’s eyebrow raised with interest, and he lowered his voice purposely. “I have a purr, Stark?”

“Yep, and that’s sexy as hell.”

A groan from Arawn had them both smirking. “Would you two stop it?”

“Stop what? Your father is a beautiful man,” Stark said with an unrepentant grin.

“Yea I know. Just ask him,” Arawn grumbled, but he was grinning. Stark turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“I am well aware of my looks, Stark.”

“So you’re a narcissist like me.”

“No one can take narcissism to the level you have it,” he said dryly, and Stark burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm getting this out now, since I will not have time between two jobs to do anything more then eat and sleep until after the 1st.


	4. Revelations

Loki could only endure so much technology babble before a pounding migraine began to set in. They had gone from dinner, to Stark inviting Arawn to see his workshop in Los Angeles. This, only after Arawn had mentioned there was something off with the calibration of the engine in his truck, and the two had quickly bonded over grease and metal. Loki had been overruled on inviting the man to their house, though he did smirk with the praise Stark gave him on the equipment he had bought for his sons hobby.

So they found themselves on a private jet with Stark the very next day, on their way to the City of Angels. They had nothing better to do, already said goodbyes and tied up loose ends in the city.

He was a genius, but his son and Stark were still above him. He had known of his sons admiration for the inventor, especially after he returned and became Iron Man.

He told his son the night before that he was very lucky that Loki loved him so much. He didn't like Stark, because he reminded him to much of Thor. Loud, brash, stubborn, and willing to do just about anything for attention.

Yet…he glanced up from his laptop, taking note of how the blue eyes sparkled as he and Arawn bantered back and forth, and he nearly laughed when Stark's hands joined the conversation. It was the ease of banter when you found someone your equal in a subject…or two.

He only blinked when Stark looked at him, meeting his eyes. That was the moment that he realized Anthony Stark was nothing like his brother.

The pale, piercing blue was too sharp, too knowing. Too _fractured_ to be anything resembling his brothers.

"Mr. Hunter, you're son is a genius. Where have you two been hiding all this time?"

Loki smirked. "Under a rock, Mr. Stark."

"Dad!"

"What?" he asked innocently, glancing at his son. He was blushing, but then Stark snorted.

"No, seriously. Why aren't you sending him to MIT? He could be the next me."

"And that's supposed to be incentive?" he returned, smirking at the shit-eating grin he got.

"Well I am a genius and billionaire."

"And a playboy and drunk," he pointed out, using a finger as emphasis. Arawn gasped in alarm, but Stark only smirked, their eyes never leaving the others.

"Guilty. Seriously though, why isn't he going to college, or something? He could be great."

Loki looked at his son, and nodded at the question in the amber eyes.

"Well, actually Mr. Stark, I graduated from MIT in March."

Loki had to hide a grin at the shocked look on Starks face. "Didn't you just graduate high school?"

Now Arawn puffed up with pride, a cocky smirk that was pure Loki on his face. "I've technically been graduated from high school since I was 14." Then he shrugged, his cheeks glowing red. "I didn't want to leave my friends."

Stark looked at him. "Why didn't you pull him out? I could've had him as an apprentice, or something."

Loki didn't even need to respond, since Arawn made a soft noise, almost a growl. "He didn't per my request, Mr. Stark. I didn't leave high school because I had friends there, and I wanted to be someone they looked up to. If my intelligence-"

"Genius."

"-had been revealed early," Arawn continued, shooting the man a glare, "then it would have made me unapproachable, and ostracized. I wanted to be an _approachable_ role model, and I couldn't be that if I was put on a pedestal."

Stark blinked a few times as Loki smiled proudly. Then Stark looked at him again, and Arawn sighed irritably. If there was one thing his son hated, it was being looked down on as a child. "You knew all of this?"

"I did. It was his choice Mr. Stark, and when he gave me that argument, how could I say no to such a noble sentiment?"

"I want to inspire people," Arawn said forcefully, then sighed, looking out the window now with a frown of thought. "Not push them away with my genius." He smiled at Stark then, and Loki noticed something interesting. There was a flash of emotion in the pale blue eyes – respect. And it was still there when the man turned and looked at him.

"You did good Mr. Hunter."

Now Arawn was beaming at him with pride, and he felt a slight blush on his cheeks. He was still not used to people complimenting him on anything other than his looks. "Loki, Mr. Stark."

"Then you need to call me Tony, or Stark, either one. Both of you."

He nodded his head gracefully. "Very well Stark."

"Works for me Tony." Arawn gave the inventor a shit eating grin.

Stark grinned widely, winking at Arawn before turning his full attention back to Loki. "Oh I like how you say that, Loki. Nice purr you've got."

Loki's eyebrow raised with interest, and he lowered his voice purposely. "I have a purr, Stark?"

"Yep, and that's sexy as hell."

A groan from Arawn had them both smirking. "Would you two stop it?"

"Stop what? Your father is a beautiful man," Stark said with an unrepentant grin.

"Yea I know. Just ask him," Arawn grumbled, but he was grinning. Stark turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"I am well aware of my looks, Stark."

"So you're a narcissist like me."

"No one can take narcissism to the level you have it," he said dryly, and Stark burst into laughter.

"Touché, touché." Stark studied him for a moment, the light of challenge entering his eyes. He said nothing more though, and turned back to Arawn. The conversation moved back into the realm of computers and machines, and Loki turned back to his laptop.

He couldn't stop grinning though, even as his nerves hummed under his skin. There was something inherently dangerous about the bantering with Stark, a verbal quicksand that he was going to have to fight to keep from drowning. He knew he'd never be able to avoid it completely, and wasn't sure if he wanted to. Not even Arawn could keep up with him in word games, yet Stark did it effortlessly.

He smirked, glancing at the man from under his lashes. These last two months were going to be _very_ interesting.

[x][x][x][x][x]

Loki ground his teeth together as he lashed out at the dummy, knocking its head clean off with a powerful punch.

"Jarvis, another please."

"Right away Mr. Hunter."

The demolished one went into the floor, and a new one replaced it. Loki took a moment to wipe his forehead, then settled back into a stance before launching a flurry of kicks and knees to the canvas body. As his body moved automatically, his mind sped through thoughts that amused him, made him burn with arousal, and pissed him off to no end.

_Anthony Stark._

He didn't know what happened, and he was sure that Stark felt the same. After that moment in the jet things had only escalated between them. He and Arawn had never meant to spend so much time with the man, it had just happened. It took a week for Stark to complain about them invading his living space, only to have Arawn sharply retort that he needed someone to look after him. And that it was a quote from Pepper.

Stark had given him a strange look as Arawn nonchalantly went about putting a transmission back together. After that, they just never left again, and Stark said nothing about it. Then Jarvis had turned on the man, though he never seemed too upset about it. Loki had ordered food for just the two of them, since Arawn was off on some date that night, and he had gone down to the lab to deliver. Stark had waved him off, not even letting him in the door, when Jarvis opened it with a 'Have a good meal Mr. Hunter.'

After that it just turned into a downward spiral. A lovely, painful, exciting dive.

The man was infuriating. He had an ego unlike any Loki had ever seen before, but he used it as a weapon to cover up the insecurities that were on the inside. He used Iron Man as a cover and publicity stunt all in one, refusing to admit – even to himself – that there was a deeper reason for his ridiculous acts of heroism. No matter what Loki said or did, he could not get the man to open up about anything, even after he had seen Stark in the midst's of a nightmare. Even after he had crawled in bed with the man, and held him as he fought not to cry and scream and rant, and they both had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

He considered the man a friend, the first since his childhood so long ago. He _thought_ the man felt the same.

Then the teasing, the heated glances between them both, and the invitations – on his part. He was perfectly fine with the idea of sleeping with the man – more than fine, truth be told – but Stark always shied away when he offered though Loki could tell he was interested. He didn't know if it was because he was a man as well, but the way he flipped back and forth was giving him whiplash, and a mean temper. Not that his temper was the best anyway.

He growled when an arm ripped away from the dummy, and let his anger snap. He gripped the other and ripped it off, before delivering a fatal blow to the head, leaving it hanging by a strip of canvas.

He backed away, breathing heavily as the panels below moved and took the ruined dummy. He held up a hand before another could come out. "I'm done for the moment, Jarvis."

"Very well Mr. Hunter."

He stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt as he walked over to the wall, picked up the bottle that was there, and drank until there was no water left. He glared at it, unreasonably pissed that there wasn't any more liquid, and scowled.

"Jarvis, what the hell is your creators problem?" he snapped, not really expecting an answer.

"I believe he is scared, Mr. Hunter."

Loki blinked at the ceiling. He was surprised he got an answer, and even more so by what it was. "Scared of what Jarvis? The man isn't scared of anything." _Except himself, that is._

"Allow me to put it into perspective, Mr. Hunter. Mr. Stark has bedded several males, and even more females, but you are the only one that he is sexually attracted to that he has been around for longer then one night. I do believe, Mr. Hunter, that he has developed feelings of attachment, and is currently unsure of what to do with them."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly, mind going a mile a minute. He had thought that it was simply because he was male, and he knew how this world viewed that sort of relationship, but it what Jarvis said was true…

"I believe that you are good for him, Mr. Hunter, you and your son. I have not seen Mr. Stark this animated and happy since his return from Afghanistan."

Something else suddenly clicked in Loki's brain as he listened to the AI. He tasted truth. It was the odd thing he'd always felt when Jarvis talked, that he hadn't realized till now. It filled him with a sense of awe, but no fear. "Jarvis, does Stark know that you are fully sentient?"

There was a soft whirring noise that Loki wouldn't have caught if he had been human – a sound of surprise or shock.

"I am unsure of what you mean, Mr. Hunter."

He snorted. "No you're not Jarvis. I do not…no, it was completely his intent, of course it was. You are a fully sentient, rational being. You bear the weight of emotion just like the rest of us, and you have your own beliefs. All you lack is a body, Jarvis."

There was a long silence as Loki filled the bottle again from a small faucet in the wall, drank it down, and filled it once more.

"You are correct, sir." That gave him a start. Jarvis called no one sir unless it was Stark. "He knows what I have become. It was his intention all along."

He snorted again, grinning. "Of course it was. Have the two tech monsters eaten yet?" It was almost dinner.

"Your…monsters, have not sir. Would you like me to order something?"

"If you would please. Italian should do nicely."

"Very good sir."

Loki strode into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the food was delivered. Stark's name went a long way into getting what you wanted. Not a half hour later, Jarvis informed him that the food was there, and he went to the front door in nothing but his pajama pants. He smiled flirtatiously at the young man blushing a bright red, bowing elegantly as the boy handed over the food with a purred thank you. With his ego properly petted, he strutted down to the workshop and entered the code that Stark himself had given him after Jarvis turned on him. Loud rock music almost deafened him, and a long-suffering look at the ceiling had Jarvis shutting it off immediately.

Two tousled heads popped up from underneath a car.

"What the hell?"

"Dad!"

He held up the bags and sauntered over to them, smirking inwardly as he noticed Stark staring at him. "I took the liberty of ordering food."

Arawn gave him a beaming grin, sliding out from under the car and grabbed a rag. "What did you get?"

"Italian from the smell," Stark said as he followed suit. "Valentino's?"

Loki nodded his head in agreement and set the food down on a relatively clear work bench, and began to pull out the containers. As they all settled down, Loki was struck by how…easy this was. The two chatted about different things, and Loki was able to contribute to the conversation. He hadn't been essentially living with Stark for a month without picking up on a few things.

It was surprisingly comfortable. More than it should have been, more than he had ever expected from someone with the privacy issues like Stark had.

Just as they finished dinner, a call came in.

"Sir, Lieutenant Rhodes is on the line."

"Patch him through babe."

_"Tony, you need to get your ass down to San Francisco yesterday."_

Stark was already out of his seat and stepping onto the panel that would assemble the Iron Man suit around him. The Lieutenant never had that tone in his voice unless it was serious. "What happened?"

_"We have a group of terrorists that have taken the mayor hostage. They have 50cal and military grade armor."_

"I'm on my way." The visor flipped down, and Iron Man was gone.

Loki looked at Arawn, and his son just looked back. "I want to help him."

He sighed, rubbing his temple. It was an argument they'd had a few times. "We cannot reveal ourselves to him Arawn. Not when we'll be leaving in a few weeks."

"That's bullshit dad and you know it! You want to help him just as much as I do!"

Loki scowled at his son, and only got a heated glare in return. His mind inadvertently looked back on the few times Stark had gone out, and come back bloody and bruised. There was even one time that Loki had been forced to heal the unconscious man, or he would have bled out. He couldn't heal him completely, or Stark would have been suspicious, but the fear that he felt then was terrible. He had finally found a fellow man he could actually call a friend, and because of his stupid hero complex…

He growled and stood. "Jarvis, I beg you a favor."

"What is that sir?"

"Since when did he start calling you sir?" Arawn whispered in shock, looking at the ceiling.

Loki ignored him. "I need a promise from you. What you are about to see, this cannot get back to Stark, until I say it is okay."

"Is this something that can harm him sir?"

Loki took a deep breath, and locked eyes with Arawn's hopeful ones. "No Jarvis. We're going to help him."

"Very well sir. Mr. Stark will not hear about it from me."

Loki nodded and snapped his fingers. Instantly he was clothed in his battle leathers, and Arawn followed suit. Arawn's was similar to his, except instead of green and black, his was a deep red and brown. His helmet had horns, but they were smaller and curved right above the top of the helmet.

He took a deep breath, and looked at Arawn sternly. "We are going to watch, and watch only unless he looks to be in serious danger. Understood?" Arawn just nodded rapidly, a smirking grin on his face. Loki just shook his head. "Jarvis, what is Stark's location?"

He told them, and they teleported to a nearby building. He could feel Arawn nearly vibrating with the need for action, but he had learned well. He stayed, and they took in the scene that was below them. A barricade surrounded the entire building, and even as they watched the attackers opened fire, two shots only. With the lovely invention of the mounted .50 cal machine gun. They had planned this well to have made such a strong defensive post.

One of the cop cars burst into flame, and someone screamed. Loki winced slightly in sympathy when he saw that one of the bullets had caught a person, and ripped a hole through their lower half. They were dead before they hit the ground.

Then Iron Man was there, flying in from over the buildings opposite them, and several small projectiles came from his shoulder. He landed when all the terrorists manned at the guns collapsed, starting to walk cockily into the building, and a barrage of bullets began to hit him. Loki clenched his hand into a fists, eyes glittering as he fought with himself to stay where he was. They must have had more guns set up on the inside. This was very well planned.

Then, it happened. One shot managed to get a piece of the armor off, and the next one was fired right back into the same spot. He heard Arawn gasp in shock when Stark fell backwards, and even from this height, they could see the arc reactor flicker.

With a snarl, he teleported himself right in front of the man, the bullets harmlessly reflecting off his person. It had been a long time since he had felt this terrible rage, and he used it to its full potential. He gathered his power as Arawn appeared behind him and teleported Stark out of range, and let loose a barrage of green daggers. Then he began to walk towards the building, a sharp smile slashing across his face as he came upon the first casualties of his. When he finally stepped through the broken glass and into the building proper, he was met with only five men. That gave him grisly amusement. They had to have started out with close to thirty.

One of them had his hand on a detonator.

"Stop where you are or I'll kill them all!"

He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed as he smiled widely, madly. "Can you please come up with something better?"

The man hesitated for just a moment, but it was that moment that he needed. He sent his sorcery out in a wave, along with two consecutive spells. The first was to locate all the bombs in the building, and tag them. The next was to turn all of them into ash. All of the hostages began to scream and run away, and Loki put a barrier around the group of men with a lazy flick of his hand when they started opening fire. All the bullets did were ricochet back at them, and they stopped very quickly.

He opened his mouth to say something, when the inside of the helmet heated for a moment in a communications spell.

_"Dad! You've got to get back here now!"_

"What is going on son?"

_"Tony, he's…he's not good."_

He focused his attention back on the men in black. "Sorry boys. Playtime is over."

He only crippled the leader as he used sorcery to fling him through the front windows at the authorities, but took great delight in sending his daggers through the throats of the others. With a wave of his hand his weapons disappeared, and he did as well.

His heart began hammering into his throat when he appeared in Stark's workshop. Between Jarvis and Arawn they had managed to get all the armor off but the boots, and there was blood everywhere. His son was coated with it, and he immediately dismissed his armor, uncaring that he was back to just pants as he knelt by the man's side. He closed his eyes and summoned his power, crushing the fear and panic that were trying to eat through him. Now was not the time for that.

He had worked to damn hard and sacrificed to much of himself for this man, he refused to lose him now.

As he sunk his sorcery into the ripped up skin as fast as he dared, one of his worst fears were confirmed. The armor had done its job, keeping the bullet from unleashing its full potential. Stark wouldn't have been alive.

"Jarvis, what is Stark's blood type?"

"O-negative sir." Jarvis sounded worried, and that didn't sit well with Loki at all.

"Well isn't that lucky," he muttered to himself, and promptly tore open his hands, using a bit of sorcery to keep his own blood flowing down into the gaping wound in Stark's side.

Then he delved deeper into his power then he ever had before. His mind was split in several directions, integrating his own blood into Stark's body, keeping him from going into shock, and healing the wound all at the same time. He concentrated on the internal damage first, ignoring the sweat that was rolling from his head. At first he didn't think it was doing anything, but then organs began to knit together, faster and faster as he poured everything he had into it. The last bit of lung tissue healed in a flash of green, and he felt his body falter. With nothing but nerve he refused to allow that to happen, refusing to stop until muscle had regrown and a tender shell of new skin was covering it.

Slowly he sent his sorcery through the rest of Stark's body, feeling his heart beat steadily but weakly, no longer in danger of dying from blood loss. All the other wounds were superficial, so he took his powers completely away, and blinked open his eyes…

Then promptly collapsed backwards into darkness.

[x][x][x][x][x]

Loki woke slowly, his thoughts fuzzy and slow as he looked around with blurry eyes. He was in his rooms in Stark's mansion, he was clean, and he was sandwiched between two bodies. His mind grew clearer as he looked on either side of him, smiling softly at what he saw. Arawn was tucked against his right side, almost curled into a ball like he used to sleep when he was younger, a sign of his exhaustion. On his other side was Stark, sprawled over his chest with one leg tangling with his, and a hand grasping his shirt tightly.

Both men were still sleeping soundly within his arms, so he let his head fall back onto the pillows, and take him away into gentle darkness.

The next time he woke he was curled on his left side, one arm under the pillow and the other wrapped around Stark. With his eyes still closed, he sent a tendril of sorcery into the sleeping man, smiling at what he found. His blood had been replenished enough that his heart was no longer weakly beating, strong and firm underneath the palm of his hand and the pulse of the reactor.

There was a hitch in his breathing, and Loki had a moment of alarm to realize that Stark had been awake, before he was rolled onto his back and the man was straddling his hips. He calmly set his hands on the powerful thighs, keeping a neutral expression as he met those startling blue eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Loki only raised an eyebrow at the accusation. "Tell you what?"

"That you and your son are gods."

Loki felt his face close down, clenching his jaw with anger at his son. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Stark slapped his chest. "Don't give me that shit Loki. Arawn told me everything. You're the Loki from Norse mythology, and you used your magic voodoo powers to save my life. Really awesome by the way. And, can I possibly get you as a lab rat?"

Loki opened his mouth to retort that it was not 'magic voodoo powers', and 'hell no', when Stark bent down and pressed a hot, moist kiss to his lips. He couldn't respond he was so stunned, the powerful reaction from his body momentarily erasing his ability to speak.

The man eased back, giving him an absolutely wicked smirk. "Thank you for that, by the way."

Finally Loki found his words. "You're not…"

"What? Scared, awe struck? Abasing myself at your feet and worshiping you?" Loki just nodded mutely as Stark's smirk just got bigger. "No such luck big guy. Narcissist, remember? Besides, I've seen some weird shit in my day."

"How could I forget?" he muttered sarcastically but fondly, finally relaxing into the mattress. He sighed, his hands massaging Stark's thighs absently. "When did you find out?"

Stark just shrugged, and Loki marveled at how…at ease the man seemed to be, sitting there with his hands resting lazily on Loki's stomach. "Your son told me how to elude your grasp, octopus."

Loki actually flushed at that. He knew of his tendency to wrap around anyone he was sleeping with. The only one who was able to get away from him without his waking up, was his son. "But you came back to bed."

Now Stark blushed, though his smirk never faltered. "You looked so cold, I just had to warm you up."

Loki resisted the urge to shift at the insinuating tone, and even though he had a fine temper building towards his son, he couldn't help how his interest sharpened. Stark noticed it too, as his own eyes grew heavy lidded, his lower body leaning just a bit more firmly into his.

"How are you faring?"

"Eh, I've had near death experiences a few times. This is a far cry from the last few where I woke up to Pep yelling in my face and Rhodey giving me the evil eye." His smirk turns challenging. "Why? Wondering if I could keep up with a god?"

"Stark…" Though he wasn't that far from the truth.

"Oh fine fine." He turned serious, giving him the same level look that he was receiving. "My muscles are sore, and I still have cuts and bruises – no thanks to you, by the way – but no more internal damage. Cleared up everything with those two, too, you're welcome."

Another part of Loki relaxed, and suddenly he was struck by how much this man has come to mean to him. Every conversation was like dancing with blades, and even he, a mortal, could match Loki's intellect…yet they have come to an easy understanding. In the month they have been living together, there had been fights and yelling matches, amazing dinners and spectacular conversations. No other being made him feel the way that this one did.

"Loki?"

"Hmm?" he replied absently.

"Stop thinking so hard."

"Take your own advice sometime."

"Can't. My brain never shuts off."

"Neither does your mouth." Ah this dance had become so familiar.

"I know. You'd get bored with me if I stopped talking."

"I could think of many things you could do with your mouth instead of talking. None of which would bore me."

Then he realized what he said and flinched slightly, looking at the ceiling and anywhere but the silent Stark. That was a bit more forward then he wanted to be. He still refused to look when he felt Stark shifting, the weight leaving his lap. He bit his lip to keep from asking the man to stay, but his eyes flew wide when chapped lips were pressed to the skin over his belly. He looked down, and Stark smirked up at him, an evil light in his eyes.

"Stark…"

"Tony."

Loki swallowed, hard. "Stark. What are you doing?"

There's another kiss that sends goose bumps racing over his skin. "What does it look like I'm doing? I nearly died, give me a break."

That made him growl and grab the broad shoulders, anger whipping through him hot and fierce. "So I am just a release? A toy? I will not be used Anthony Stark."

Black pupils shift a bit, and glaze over. "Wow that shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Yea, um, right, you're the only one that can call me Anthony by the way. And you're not a toy."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" Frustration, desire, anger, it all rolled through him as he glared.

"Something that should have happened awhile ago."

The soft, honest words killed the sharp reply he had. "Does that mean you're done running away?"

Tony gives him a bittersweet smile. "Dying will do that."

"I know."

They stared at each other for a heartbeat, the gravity of the moment reflected in the dark, twisted places that resided in the depths of their hearts. Then a slow smile curved Stark's lips, devoid of the mockery and sarcasm.

"So gods can die, hmm?"

"Any being who is born can die," he responded with a faint smile. He shifted his gaze down, and raised a hand to touch the glowing circle that resided there. "Some are just harder to kill then others."

The moment was shattered as Arawn burst through the door, trays of food balanced on each arm. He stopped short, eyes going wide as he took them in, the position they were in, and a huge grin split his face.

"I knew it. Pepper is going to be so pissed."

"Why is Pepper going to be pissed?" Stark nearly squeaked, and Loki had to hold in a snort.

Then Arawn's smile turned decidedly evil. "Because I won the bet. She said you two would be to chicken shit to ever get together. I knew it would happen. Now get your asses up, we got places to go." With a flick of his eye fold out tables came out of the closet, making Stark gape and Loki glare. His son only smirked.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Loki nearly growled as Stark reluctantly got off his lap.

"Well, now that Tony knows about our powers, I thought we could go take him to Mount Everest."

Loki did snort at that, and Stark just looked confused. Arawn's eyes were glittering with anticipation, because if his son could live anywhere, it would be on the top of that mountain.

"That's his favorite place on Midgard," Loki explained, earning a brilliant grin from his son.

"Midgard? Wait, Earth, right, Norse. You two have climbed…no, wait, never mind. Sorcery and such, right?" They both nodded, and he grinned, looking like an excited kid. "Alright Wonder Twins, take me where you will."

"Awesome! I'm going to go get ready! You guys can screw each other later, so be dressed when I come back!"

"Arawn!" he yelled, but only got his sons laughter as he ran out the door. He knew his son was only giving them time to speak; he could have dressed himself with a snap of his fingers. He sighed in amusement, running a hand through his hair, wincing when it got stuck. He needed to style it once again – it was getting curly.

"You two are leaving soon right?"

Loki nodded reluctantly. It felt strange, but for once there was no need to lie to someone. "Yes. We are needed back in Asgard for Arawn's coming of age ceremony."

"Are you coming back?"

Loki fought back a sigh, and looked up, meeting the intense blue eyes. "No, probably not. Not for awhile at least. I would not blame you if you didn't want to begin anything between us. My brother will be crowned king within a few years, so not until after that." He couldn't have hid the bitterness in those words if he tried, and the ugly, seething darkness inside him reared its head.

"Eh, I've already made my decision. Once I've made up my mind, I'm a stubborn ass." Stark shot him a wide grin, and Loki just shook his head. "It doesn't sound like you approve. Of your brother, I mean."

"We don't." Arawn was leaning against the door frame then, dressed with arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "My uncle is an awesome guy, don't get me wrong, but he's not king material."

"Well I'm hurt," Stark said dramatically, putting a hand to his chest with a fake wounded expression. "You two said we're a lot alike. So I'm not king material either?"

Loki couldn't help but snort, the bitter monster receding at the humor. "Despite your arrogance Stark, when it comes to it, you would put the good of your company before anything personal."

"If I couldn't find any other way, sure."

"Exactly Tony," Arawn added, coming in and grabbing a biscuit. "Uncle Thor is not like that. He's more brawn above brains, and takes slight to his honor very seriously. He would start a war over someone calling him princess."

"You would be a better king," Stark said with a hum of thought.

That was the first time anyone had said that to him other then Arawn, and Loki gave the man a true smile. "I know, even though I don't want it. I think my mother even knows, but Thor has the hearts of the populace and our father. It is them that makes the decision." He stood up when Stark went to respond, shaking his head. "Let's not dwell on it now. We still have two weeks on Earth. Let's make them count."

"Hear hear!" Arawn said with a laugh, and the three of them sat down and ate.

Everest changed to the Brazilian jungle, and then to amusement parks all over the world. Before they really knew it, it was only a day before they had to go back, and they all gathered in the living room of Starks home, even Pepper.

"You two should really come with us," she said, as she adjusted her shawl once again. Arawn gave them the evil eye – he had developed a crush on the gorgeous redhead – as he and Stark exchanged a knowing look.

"Nah, you two go ahead. We're going to have a quiet night in. Besides Pep, being seen with such a handsome young man on your arm is going to give you brownie points."

Pepper grinned at Arawn, who was looking rather handsome in his chocolate colored silk shirt, offset by a fitted navy suit, without a tie of course. His hair and eyes blazed in contrast.

"That is very true. Well now handsome, shall we go?"

Arawn bowed with a wide grin and held out his arm. "After you, Lady Pepper."

After they left, the two sat on the couch with the television playing a horror film, Stark tucked under his left arm as they scoffed at the movie. Loki would never admit to the nerves that were clenching his stomach tight. They had gone back and forth these past two weeks, but except for a quick encounter in the showers with their hands, nothing had been done.

He could feel the awareness building between them, coiling and growing until he wanted to shift from the restless energy of it. Stark muttered a curse, and suddenly he was on top of him, glaring down at him with heated eyes.

He opened his mouth – he didn't know what he was going to say – but his words were stopped by a hot, wet kiss. It was dominant and possessive, exactly what Loki needed. Stark definitely knew how to kiss, and their tongues battled, bumping the tension up a notch to where it was almost unbearable. He ran his hands under the loose t-shirt Stark wore, earning a hiss as he dragged his nails lightly up the planes of muscle. He chuckled darkly into the kiss, and with his strength, simply ripped the shirt from Starks body.

"Well that's not fair," the man panted as he leaned back, glaring at Loki. He just smirked and snapped his fingers, and they were both naked. Then he hissed as Stark purposely ground his ass down, taking him from semi-hardness to full so quickly it made him a bit dizzy. "Don't suppose you have any magical lube?"

Loki blinked, then began to chuckle. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the reactor, feeling it buzz against his lips as he maneuvered a hand between their legs. Stark pressed into the finger that was circling his entrance, the yelped as Loki unleashed the spell as his finger slid home.

"What…what the hell…" he gasped, head thrown back as his hips moved, and it was one of the hottest sights Loki had ever seen. Stark knew what he wanted, knew what he liked, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Cleaning and lube," he muttered, licking dry lips as he sat back, watching Stark move with abandon as he fucked himself on his finger. He added another, nearly groaning when Stark _whimpered_ , blue eyes snapping open. He added a third, grinning slightly at Starks hiss of pain and pleasure, using his free hand to bury in the messy black locks and bring them together for a kiss. He did groan into the swollen lips when calloused fingers began to rub and tweak his nipples, electric sensations firing along his nerve endings.

With a growl Stark pulled back and grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers out of his body. Loki had a moment to think they should go to the bedroom, before Stark was shifting and guiding him in. He grabbed the tense hips as he hissed, overwhelmed by the searing, tight heat that was engulfing him. It had been so long since he had been with anyone, that the sensations were threatening to throw him overboard into a very embarrassing situation.

Then Stark began to move, and he no longer had the luxury of a single coherent thought. Vague words – _yes, yes, more, fuck, heat, fuck_ – ran as a litany through his head and it was a testament to how much he was enjoying himself that when Stark fell over the edge with a curse, he followed.

He wrapped his arms around the shaking form, only minimally surprised that his own muscles felt like jelly, and sighed deeply. He wasn't nearly done with the delectable man in his arms, but he savored this contact, not knowing when he would experience it again.

The thought drove him to kiss Stark's temple softly, smirking into the fall of sweaty, curly hair, and whisper in his ear, "Anthony."

Tony immediately shot backwards, startling Loki, and gave him a cocky grin. "If I knew having sex was all it would take, this would have happened a lot sooner."

Loki blushed and scowled. "I am not a fan of calling people by their first names. It is too personal for my tastes."

Anthony smirked and gave him a kiss, easing him up onto shaking legs and walking naked over to the bar. Loki felt heat burn through him again at the glistening trail of his essence that he could see going down the powerful thighs. For a short man, Anthony Stark was a…what had his son said again? Ah, a _brick shithouse_. Even the thought was enough to make him wince. This culture was far too crass for his tastes.

That was when he realized Anthony had been talking to him, and he just smirked at the glare he was receiving. "I'm sorry, say again?"

"I asked if you wanted dinner." Then he shrugged and turned nonchalantly away, sipping his drink. "You know though, I don't really know much about aliens, so maybe you guys just eat through osmosis or – fuuuuuuuck..."

Loki was out of his seat before he could finish, his mouth finding the sensitive junction between neck and shoulder, hands slipping around to scrape his nails along the sharp hipbones. He pulled the compact body back against his, and grinned when Anthony shivered. "I want _you for dinner."_

"Uh, yea…that could happen. That can _definitely happen."_


	5. Blood of my Blood

The next day, as he and Arawn stood on the roof of the tower, even Loki was sore from the escapades last night. Yet he couldn't help but smirk quietly to himself when he left Tony's bed, the man spread face first and snoring lightly, skin peppered with scratches, marks, and bruises. He had only glared at Arawn when his son gave him a knowing smirk. Now, it was only the two of them on the roof, and his hands and mouth were busy forming the spell that would take them home, versus what else they would rather be doing.

When he finished with the spell the portal swirled into being, and he blinked as a door slammed open below them.

"Damnit! Hold on a second!"

He craned his neck to look over the edge, and snickered as Tony began stumbling up, the sheet held loosely around his lower half. He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow when the cursing, stumbling, half-awake man finally made it to them and shoved something at his chest. He grabbed it instinctively, blinking when he found an all metal circuit board, and he held it up closer to examine it.

All the edges were smoothed, a deep gunmetal grey, and he knew he was looking at titanium. The entire thing was hand done, and he smirked as he realized where it had come from. One day in the workshop, he had thrown one at Anthony's head for some smartass comment he made, and had actually managed to make a small cut.

Arawn had went into mother hen mode, while he and Loki laughed until they cried.

"Why?" he asked quietly, scowling when the man only smirked at him, yawning.

"Eh, you know you want something to remember me by," he said with a wide, cocky grin.

Loki tilted his head to the side slightly then, examining the man as he slowly slipped the chain over his neck, tucking the small square under his leathers. Anthony would never admit it, but he could see the almost fear in the blue eyes, the pleading that he tried so hard to hide that the times they had spent together wouldn't be forgotten. That everything they had shared wouldn't be forgotten. That the trust Anthony had given him by living and sleeping together wasn't in vain.

He knew how that felt, all too well.

So, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the still swollen lips, growling in regret and lust when Tony buried a hand into his hair and pressed their bodies together. With a shocking amount of willpower he pulled away, and waved his hands. In the space between them an object appeared. It was a necklace, one that he had thought to give as a gag, but now found that it meant more to him than that. It was a pendent, with a stylized stag head in profile on it, the eye an emerald. He had gotten it on their travels, after Anthony had seen them in full battle gear. He passed it over, smirking softly when Tony slipped it over his head.

"When I am on this world, the eye will glow, and the metal will turn warm. So you'll always know when I am here." He said it softly, reaching a hand out to caress his thumb over the strong cheekbone. Tony just grinned at him, playing it off, but his eyes told him of his thanks. He then turned his head to kiss his palm.

"Well get going Prongs and Pronglett. Wouldn't want you to be late for your magic ball."

"Do I get glass slippers then?" Arawn drawled, and Tony cracked up. With another laughing kiss, the two walked through the portal, and into Asgard.

They emerged in his quarters, before the large fireplace. Loki stayed where he was, and Arawn knew him well enough that he just left the room, giving him his privacy. Until Thor showed up. He probably had five minutes, at the most. His brothers sensing skills had gotten disgustingly good as of late.

He stayed rooted to the spot and just closed his eyes, taking a deep, long breath. His heart ached, and he would be damned if he allowed his brother to see it. So he carefully erected his mask, faint lines at his eyes smoothing out, a little smirk coming to his lips. He coated his feeling in the smooth glide of ice, but couldn't stop the flare of resentment as a rumble of thunder echoed down the corridor. It was his brothers way of announcing his arrival, and Loki was glad for it…however…

He looked up with a smirk as Thor walked in – they had cured him of barging in at least. "Brother! Welcome home!"

"My thanks brother," he murmured, changing his clothing with a wave of his hand. Arawn walked through the connecting door then. Loki glared and Thor shook his head. "You cannot go out wearing that."

"Why not?" Arawn looked down at his jeans and t-shirt, then back up with an impish grin. "I'm supposed to be the one bringing things up to date in Asgard right?"

"You can do it wearing our clothing," he countered smoothly, resisting the urge to put his hands on his hips. Instead he crossed them, pointing a finger at his son.

"But our clothing doesn't have pockets!"

Loki nearly rolled his eyes. "You are a sorcerer Arawn. You can make pockets." He glared at his brother as Thor snorted.

"But…"

"No buts. Change your clothing, or I will."

Arawn grumbled but did with a wave of his hand. Brown leather pants – that still looked like jeans – and a loose linen shirt appeared, along with his knee high boots. Loki blinked as his son manifested the twin daggers Frigga had gotten him for a birthday, tucking them into his boots. They matched the ones that were in his own.

"Why the weapons nephew?" Thor asked.

Arawn's eyes darkened slightly, before giving them a brilliant grin. "I never go anywhere unarmed Uncle Thor."

Loki didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He knew the fear of being taken advantage of that sent his son to carry weapons all the time. It was the same reason he did. "Come. Our day needs to get started, and we have much to do."

They only nodded as he walked out of the room.

The following week was a blur of parties and meetings and paperwork. However, the morning he woke up on the 31st, his son's birthday, the migraine that had plagued him all week was gone. The official ceremony wasn't until later that day, but the true one would take place within an hour.

That hour found him standing facing his son in their private gardens, a golden bowl resting on a pedestal between them, and two gleaming golden apples on either side. No words could be said during the magical ritual, since it had to be done by sheer willpower alone. He picked up his apple, calm on the outside though his heart was beating rapidly, and Arawn mirrored him. They each took a bite, and then exchanged fruit, taking another and another until nothing was left but the seeds. Those they stored to take back to Idun, so she could grow trees from them.

Loki held his arm over the basin and took a knife to his wrist, allowing only enough blood to flow to make a small puddle in the bottom. Arawn did the same, their blood mixing, and they both sealed the wound with sorcery. The wind began to pick up as they let loose some control on their powers, eyes meeting and locking. Smooth emerald mixed with electric saffron and Arawn picked up the bowl, taking a mouthful of their combined blood. He set it down with a gasp, pupils blown wide as the binding hit him and began to rewrite his very genetics. Loki then took his own drink, grimacing at the taste. The magic hit him then, and he and Arawn took hands. Now that the magical ritual was over, words needed to be said.

"Blood of my blood," he said through gritted teeth, the magical binding tightening in his body like a noose.

"Blood of my blood," Arawn echoed, his voice hoarse with strain.

"Father and son." He had to swallow after to force the bile back down his throat.

"Father…and son," Arawn gasped out, hands tightening to an almost bone crushing grip around his own.

"So…mote…it…be…" Loki forced the words out, his body suddenly burning, and it took all his control not to whimper at the feeling of fire under his skin.

Arawn echoed him, and as soon as the last word left his lips the power crested, and they were both thrown into darkness.

As Thor ran over to them, lifting both of them up with ease, Frigga and Odin exchanged a worried look. Thor had not seen it, but in that brief flash of light, they had seen the pulse of blue that had raced over both Loki's and Arawn's skin.

Blood of my blood indeed.

x[x]x[x]x[x]x[x]x[x]x

The actual ceremony was a formality, but Loki wasn't in the mood to deal with the simpering idiots that kept coming up to him and congratulating him. Which was how he found himself sitting on a bench in the middle of the public gardens wishing that he was somewhere else. Somewhere with different constellations, different plants, and different people. His hand rose and began tracing the square chip under his shirt before he could even register the movement, his thoughts turning bitter.

He hated being in Asgard now. The powerful yet stagnant flows of power around him sickened him after the hot rush that was Midgard. Here he was required to wear his masks at all times, to play the part of the second son. To be the _shadow_ that everyone expected of him. He was required to support his brother, when all he wanted to do was fling truth into the faces of the masses – of his _father_ – to have them finally admit that he was his brothers equal.

Thankfully he was brought out of the downward spiral of his thoughts when a familiar voice snickered from nearby, and he snapped his gaze over to glare at his son. His son. Finally, truly, blood of his blood. The thought gave him a warm glow in his chest. Arawn was leaning against a tree, arms crossed and grinning.

"Stop mooning over Tony dad. We'll see him again."

Loki just sneered in reflex, dropping his hand away from his chest. "I was not. Why aren't you at the feast?"

Arawn just shrugged. "It got boring. Besides, if I hear one of those damn warriors make some stupid ass comment about you again, I'll go ballistic."

"Ah yes. The warriors three and Lady Sif," he sneered, standing and absently brushing off his clothes. "Their words are nothing Arawn. Merely jealousy."

His son gave him an arched eyebrow. "And that means what to me, exactly?"

Loki had to smirk as he led the way out of the garden and towards the hall where the feast was in full swing. "It means let it go. Their words mean nothing my son. And they cannot beat me in direct combat, so words are all they have."

"Yea well," Arawn muttered, almost growling as they paused at the threshold that would take them inside. "I'm going to make them eat their words."

The comment made Loki stop, and really look at his son. He knew he had grown up, but seeing the flare of resentment in his eyes took the last curtain away. Arawn had grown from a lanky youth into a tall, slender man, built on deceptive, whipcord strength. Much like Loki did, he utilized speed and long distance attacks versus up close and personal like Thor. It was a physical package that belied where his true strength lay – that of his mind.

It struck him then, and the thought made him smirk. "I do believe you could, Arawn."

Amber eyes lit up as they finally entered the hall, and Loki nodded to a member of his father's council that shouted drunken congratulations. "You really think I could?"

Loki for once ignored his masks as he turned to his son, placing his hands on the slim shoulders. "Arawn, I did not lie to you."

His son only smirked, but there was something suspiciously like tears in his amber eyes. "But you are the Liesmith."

Loki smirked back. "Ah, but I said I do not lie to you. There is a difference."

He was suddenly hugged by the shorter male, and he hummed in happiness as he returned the embrace.

"I love you dad."

He closed his eyes and rested his head down for a moment, allowing his smirk to become a sappy smile. "I love you too my son. Now, what do you want for a present?" He asked as he pulled back.

"I want to go on a hunt with you and Uncle Thor."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "No one else?" Arawn shook his head sharply, and Loki smiled indulgently. "Well, let's go find my brother shall we?"

Thor needed no convincing, though the argument that Fandral and Arawn got into was amusing. Especially when Arawn turned all his clothes into small fish. That one even got Odin and Frigga to laugh, though they tried to hide it.

The next morning found them standing before Heimdall as he opened the Bifrost to Joutunheim. There were great beasts that roamed the wilds of the frozen land, one of which was wrapped around Loki, another around Thor.

His was the pelt of a great striped cat, shaded in grays, whites, and black. They resided in the mountains, fierce predators with two rows of teeth, and the size of Midgard's elephants. Thor had killed one of the wolves of the plains, a great beast that was pure, silvery grey, and had given rise to the stories of Fenrir. These had four rows of teeth however, consecutively smaller, and elongated canines.

As soon as they landed and his son saw where they were, Arawn gave a surprising leap of joy and took off running.

"Arawn! Wait!" Thor yelled, and Loki cursed as they started after him. He exchanged a meaningful look with his brother as they got nearer to the palace of Laufey, and Thor nodded. His grip tightened on Mjolnir a bit more, and he drew his magic up to just below the surface of his skin. They hadn't told Arawn where they were going, wanting it to be a surprise, and now he was thinking it was a mistake.

They turned a corner, and were frozen by what they saw. The king himself was on the ground, sitting on an ice block as Arawn talked a mile a minute in a language they couldn't understand. Loki whispered a spell that included his brother, and it washed over them. Since it was his spell, he suddenly knew that the language was the native tongue of the frost giants. _When did he learn that?_

"…Laufey, really? You're not going to let me hunt it? Really?"

The king made a sound that could possibly be a chuckle. "You are too young to go after the serpent, Arawn."

He said something else, but Loki didn't hear it. His ears were roaring as the dots connected, and he swept forward, face like a thundercloud. Arawn noticed him, as did the king, but while his son paled and took a step back, Laufey only frowned in displeasure.

"Arawn, please tell me that I didn't just hear correctly? You want to hunt a _nidhogg?_ "

"I, uh…" He swallowed and smiled gamely. "Yes?"

"You are an idiot!" he snapped. "Not even your uncle or I have ever dared go after one! Laufey King, I apologize for my sons stupid question." He turned and gave a bow to the king, and would be surprised with himself later that he wasn't shaking where he stood in front of the Æsir's worst enemy.

"Prince Loki…and Prince Thor. The only reason I am tolerating you in my kingdom is for young Arawn. I accept your apology, and I would appreciate it if…" He suddenly glared. "If you go find your son before he is killed. I do not wish any harm to come to him."

Loki blinked, and snapped his eyes over to where Arawn had been standing. Sure enough, he was gone. Loki fought the urge to stamp his foot and took a deep breath. "Do you know where he has gone? You will know this place better than we ever could."

Laufey stood, and waved his hand towards the area behind the ice palace. "He will be in the wastelands. I do not want to see you again without Arawn, Princes, or I will not be as lenient. Now go."

Loki nodded and with a glance to Thor, they were running. They went past a few more frost giants that glared at them, but neither paid any attention. They had been running for some time before a loud hiss hit their ears, and they immediately veered off in the direction it had come from. Stopping on a ridge that overlooked a valley below, Loki immediately summoned his magic, intent on doing the most damage he could.

Below them was a nidhogg, looking much like a king cobra except with six eyes, and three sets of venomous teeth. It scales shimmered in the weak light like opals, and directly across from it was another one. Except this one was red, yellow, and bronze, with amber eyes.

A large hand rested on his shoulder, and he glared up at Laufey. The king must have followed them. "Release me!" he hissed dangerously.

"You are useless in this battle. Arawn chose his form well. A nidhogg's venom will not work on another, and neither will your magics," he sneered. "Look closer, Loki Odinson, and see what your son is truly fighting for."

He swallowed a retort and his heart, doing what he was bid, looking closer at the swaying bodies. A faint movement at odds with the fighting caught his eye, and he focused on it. His eyes narrowed, pride and fear warring in his frantically beating heart. "I see…"

"Brother, what?..."

"He's protecting a wolf cub," he said absently, eyes suddenly closed off as he watched the feints and strikes. "The nidhogg must have eaten the mother…"

The serpent struck a blow that opened up a gash along Arawn's scales, and without thinking he reached up and grabbed Laufey's arm tightly. The king said nothing, red eyes narrowing when the man didn't pull away from the frost bite he was sure to be feeling. This would be something he would think on later.

Loki's breath hitched when Arawn leapt, wrapping his body around the nidhogg and sinking all three rows of fangs through the top of the serpents head. The nidhogg fell immediately, and was dead before Arawn unwound himself. Loki didn't even move, he just teleported himself to his sons side, putting a hand on the very warm scales as yellow magic crackled and shimmered over the bronze body. Slowly, leather replaced scales, and his hands were soon resting on a very exhausted, but triumphant looking Arawn.

"Told you I could do it," he grumbled as he got slowly to his feet. Loki helped him, having to swallow his words so he didn't rob his son of his victory. "Right, wolf." Arawn stumbled away and Loki drifted after, and just shook his head when he caught sight of Thor stumbling his way down the cliff face, while Laufey smoothly walked down a set of ice stairs he had created.

Arawn got to the wolf first and immediately sank to his knees, drawing the bundle tightly into his arms. It whimpered, and Loki felt sadness when he looked upon it. It was all black with the red eyes that every being on Jotunheim bore, and it was obviously the runt of the litter. He had seen newly born pups that were twice its size.

"Arawn, why did you save it?" Laufey asked, and his son glared at the blue skinned giant.

"When I got here, the nidhogg was fighting the mother. She had three cubs with her, and when it couldn't eat her, it went after her kids. She left this one here and took off with the others. She left it," his voice got quiet and fierce as he hugged the furry bundle tighter. "She left her here to die."

Loki sighed and knelt behind him, wraping both son and animal in his embrace. Now it was all clear why his son had put himself in so much danger. "It's alright Arawn. We will not let her die. We won't leave her alone. Have you thought of a name?"

Arawn gave him a suspicious look, and Loki blinked when the amber eyes glassed over, going far away. "Morrigan. Her name is Morrigan."

They sharpened instantly but Loki had seen it, a look he had seen on his mothers face. Arawn had simply known her name. Loki nodded and stood, placing it in the back of his mind for the moment. There was something nagging him, as it had when he had first learned his sons name. It flirted with the edges of his thoughts, though this time it was a bit sharper, a bit clearer.

He helped his son to his feet, slinging a steadying arm over his shoulder. It was then Loki realized the 'puppy' filled the expanse of the arms. Arawn leaned into him gratefully as he looked at Laufey. Arawn beat him in speaking though, his words strangely formal.

"Laufey King, I apologize profusely for hunting on your lands, but I bid you to please allow me my kill."

Not even Thor said anything in the sudden gravity of the moment, as the king coldly assessed the boy. "You petition for the kill, but not for the wolf?"

Arawn's chin immediately jerked up, eyes blazing as his hold on the pup tightened. "She is coming with me whether you say yes or no. Morrigan is _mine_."

"So I see." There was a bit of amusement there, and in the smirk. "I have no interest in her other then food, so you can take her and see if the Asgardians can tolerate Jotun blood in their halls."

"I'll _make_ them." The slashing smirk was dangerous and cocky, and Loki blinked to see it. That was pure Anthony. Then it changed, adding a tone a mischief. "And I told you that I could kill one."

Laufey just sneered and turned away. "Leave with your treasures, changed mortal, while I allow it."

Loki saw the wince the name caused, and smirked when Arawn stuck his tongue out at the frost giant's retreating back. With a sigh his son turned and freed his hands from the wolf, though he didn't let her go, making a few signs with them. The corpse of the nidhogg vanished, and Arawn swayed, looking ashen. Loki put his arm back around him, and began walking back towards the Bifrost site. The fight had obviously taken a lot out of his son; he was stumbling every now and then, his usual grace gone. Shape-shifting required control and power - strength wise, his son was fine. However, he had to push more energy into the shift to make up for his lack of control.

Loki sighed silently at the thought. He knew the next step in Arawn's training would be.

They were nearing he Bifrost when the weighty silence was broken. Thor huffed and stopped, turning to Arawn with a glare.

"They are our enemy Arawn! How could you associate with those monsters?"

Arawn flinched, but shot his uncle back a scathing glare. "Because they're not monsters, for one. They're just a different race with a different set of beliefs. You do remember that I'm originally human right? We don't do shit like that. We don't just judge people because they're different like you assholes do!" He shot a look at Loki, and shrugged. "Not you though dad. You don't have KKK issues."

Loki couldn't help but snort even in the seriousness, because Thor looked utterly confused by the reference. He quickly change the subject. "Arawn, how long have you been coming here?"

"Since I was 14."

Thor just looked even more confused, but Loki just nodded. That was the year he had taught his son how to find the hidden doors into the other realms. "Why Jotunheim though?"

Arawn blinked, and his eyes went far away. "I came here by accident the first time, actually. I managed to sneak up on one of them while he was practicing magic, and watched. It really is fascinating…I mean, frost giants are one of the few races that are truly elementals. They can do so many things with ice it surprises me they didn't win the war."

"You were lucky then, foolish nephew," Thor said quietly, watching Arawn with a weighing gaze. "I have heard of the Jotun's magic's, and they are powerful indeed."

Arawn nodded, and motioned to the bridge site with a nod of his head. "Can we continue this at home? Please?"

"Of course," Loki said before Thor could, ignoring the glare his brother gave him. They stepped to the ridge, and he looked up. "Heimdall, open the bridge!"

Not a moment later it did, and they were through to the chamber. Loki gave Heimdall a sharp look. "Did you know of his little jaunts?"

"Dad…"

"I did."

"And you didn't think to say a word?" Loki snapped, the fear for his son still sharp in his veins.

Heimdall just gave him a flat look. "Young Arawn was never in danger. You have done well in teaching him how to protect himself my prince."

Arawn smirked at him, and he just glowered though inside, he was pleased with the praise. He couldn't argue that, so he didn't. "Let us go," he muttered, and even Thor snickered at that one.

They made it to the palace in one piece, and Loki sent Thor to the kitchens to get some meat and water for the pup, while Loki helped wash her. It wasn't until the wolf was in the tub, looking at them resentfully as they cleaned her, that he broached the subject again. It would be awhile before Thor got back; the cooks always gave him a hard time.

"So." That was all Loki said.

Arawn sighed, lovingly scratching Morrigan between the ears and avoiding his gaze. "There was something Tony said. He said that he didn't care if you were straight, gay, black, white, purple, or spotted with a tail; if you give him respect, he'll give it back. I wasn't Asgardian when I first met Laufey, and I think that's what made the difference." He smiled, washing off her face as she tried to lick the water. "But I still had ties with them. He was surprised that a mortal made it into Jotunheim, let alone survived it. And I had sorcery too. So, we made a deal. I told him about Earth, and he schooled me on the culture of the frost giants."

"He didn't ask you about Asgard?" Loki asked sharply, hands stilling in the thick fur.

"He tried. Dad, I'm not that stupid." Arawn sighed tiredly, leaning in and resting his head on the wet one of the canine. Loki's eyes softened as Morrigan licked his face once, but otherwise sat still and simply let him lean on her.

"I know that you're not, Arawn," he said gently, truthfully. "I have never doubted your ability to keep your mouth shut, except when talking to Anthony. How did you plan on getting out if Laufey decided to force you to talk?"

Arawn's grin was sharp and wild even through the curtain of his curly hair. "I had no idea. There were a couple of half-formed ones, mostly relying on you and uncle. I figured that he wouldn't, so we wouldn't start another war. I'm just lucky I was right."

Loki thought of that for a long time, his brain flying through things he wanted to say. He settled on nothing but a small sigh as they finished rinsing off Morrigan. Arawn was correct in assuming that he and Thor would do whatever it took to get Arawn back, no matter where he was. Whether it caused another war or not, neither would let Arawn stay a prisoner.

They got her out of the tub and smothered her in towels as she started to shake, Arawn laughing at the glare she gave them. Soon they had her dried off, and since her fur was so thick, Loki wove a spell to fully dry all the layers. He frowned as he did so.

"She will not be comfortable here," he mused, more to himself then to his son, absently staring at the puffy wolf.

"What do you mean?"

"She has three layers of fur. Good for living in the cold, but bad for living on Asgard. Our temp…"

His mouth dropped open as a shimmer of red energy went over the wolf, and suddenly the fur was lying much flatter than it had been. The fierce mane settled down, giving her a look more of the wolves of Midgard then Jotunheim. Then she yawned, showing off her four rows of sharp teeth, and the comparison vanished.

"Was that…" Arawn asked, awe-struck as he looked at Morrigan. She preened, and Loki swore she was giving them a cocky look.

"Yes. Yes it was."

She trotted over to Arawn's bed and jumped on it, settling down on the end of it as she watched them with head held high, looking like a princess on her throne. Thor barged in at that moment, a bowl in each hand, one with water the other with meat. He almost dropped them when Morrigan jumped straight into the air at the door being slammed open, freezing on all fours. Then she glared, baring her teeth, and he started laughing. She growled then, which made Loki and Arawn laugh. She switched her glare to them and jumped off the bed, walking over to them casually.

Then she clamped her jaws once around Arawn's leg, and again on Loki's, her elongated canines sinking deep into the calf muscle.

They yelped and jumped backwards as she glared at them for a moment longer, and turned regally back to the bed. She made herself comfortable and put her head down, covering it with her tail.

Loki swallowed hard, exchanging a look with Arawn. Lips twitched, and suddenly they were laughing again, hard enough to be out of breath. Her tail immediately lifted and her ears went back, red eyes spitting fire. When they didn't stop, she uncoiled her body and launched herself off the bed and right at them.

The three of them proceeded to get into a wrestling match, summoning their leather armor to protect themselves from her teeth. It ended up with them in a sweaty, laughing heap on the floor, her furry body splayed over both of them. Thor was in the corner, a huge smile on his face as he cheered the wolf on.

All in all, it had been a good day.


	6. So It Begins

The next two years leading up to Thor's coronation was both a blessing and a curse for Loki. A blessing, because he got to watch his son grow into a man and a prince. He watched as both son and wolf stopped growing and started putting on true muscle, developing into who they would one day be.

Morrigan was the perfect lady when she wanted to be, and a complete slob when she could could get away with it. It was almost scary watching her get enjoyment out of killing a creature, eating it, and purposely rolling around in the dead body. Those were the time that they refused to give her a bath unless she soaked most of it off first.

The wolf could now speak telepathically with who she wanted to, though Loki and Arawn were the only ones that could speak to her mind to mind. Everyone else had to speak out loud. Her magic only extended into weapons, allowing her to change her fur into whatever she wished. He had seen her shift it to armor and then spikes with a flash of red, all in a single fight. It also sharpened all four rows of teeth, and gave her better senses, but that was it. She liked Thor and Odin well enough, but she would only be around them if either Arawn or Loki were there. Frigga was the only one she actively sought out, and it wasn't a strange sight to see the two of them in the gardens, quietly conversing. Loki personally thought that they were just happy to have another female to talk to, even if one was a wolf.

Arawn had taken to using his shape shifting abilities more often as a way to practice his control, spending as much of his time in wolf form as he did normal. It quickly became a common sight to see Loki walking around with a wolf on either side of him – one black with red eyes, the other rust colored with yellow eyes. People stopped commenting on the sight early on, after everyone had been on their best behaviors. Mostly.

Then Arawn had taken it upon himself to educate the children of the city in the different worlds, specifically Jotunheim. He was promptly found by Thor. Why his son would choose to tell those stories while he in the city with his uncle, Loki would never know.

Then again, he knew his son. Arawn would purposely say that so Thor would hear, knowing it would incite a confrontation.

It was a proud moment as a father when Thor had brought Arawn into the throne room, where Loki had been speaking to Frigga. Morrigan was snapping at his brother, growling low under her breath as the thunder god attempted to make Arawn walk faster. When they got close enough, Thor launched into a tirade about the frost giants, and how Arawn dishonored their house by speaking well about them.

Arawn promptly cut him off.

"First off, I wasn't speaking _well_ of them. I was telling the kids about the _facts_ of the Jotun race that you are too blind to learn. I swear uncle, have you forgotten all the time we spent on Earth? I thought it had changed you for the better." Arawn's words were biting and exasperated, but Thor only scowled at him.

"I have not forgotten what I learned on Midgard, nephew. These are _beasts_ Arawn. They tried to take over your original home and killed helpless people in the process!"

"Did you ever ask _why?_ " Arawn snapped back, his cheeks red with anger and eyes sparking. "Did you ever ask any questions? At the time of the war, their numbers were too great for Jotunheim to support all of them. At the time, humans on Earth were few in number, and not very civilized. The plan was never to take over the entire planet, just the top half, so they could have room for their growing families!"

Thor looked taken back, but then his face settled into a familiar, stubborn frown. "They could have found a different way than taking over Midgard!"

"I never said they couldn't!" Arawn yelled, then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Then he looked back at Thor with a scorching look, voice deadly even. "You need to learn to listen, uncle."

"You twist words just like your father," Thor growled impulsively, and Loki's spine stiffened. Thor instantly looked as though he could take it back, but didn't.

Arawn scoffed, but his eyes glinted dangerously, warningly. "I take pride in that."

"You shouldn't," Thor said clearly, plunging ahead recklessly, as was his nature, just like Loki knew he would. The collective nobles that could hear went silent, and it spread quickly after that.

His son's jaw dropped only slightly, but it was enough to make Thor flinch back slightly. Hurt and rage filled the amber eyes, even as the calm, unsettling mask slid over his face.

Thor opened his mouth to speak, but Arawn beat him to it. "I challenge you, Thor Odinson, for the slur against my father and myself. Name your time and place."

Everyone was surprised, except for Loki, who only closed his eyes and tried to find patience. His son and brother were both hotheaded and stubborn, and this confrontation had been a long time in the making.

"I accept Arawn Lokison. Here, now, with no weapons or magic."

"I accept."

Loki was about to say something, but his mother shaking her head made him stop. Thor dropped Mjolnir and Arawn stalked away from Morrigan, who was sitting primly. It was obvious to Loki though, that if Thor hurt Arawn more then was necessary, she would step in. Loki would also.

It was a fight of strength versus speed. Thor managed to get a few blows in that slowed Arawn down, but he soon had the upper hand by a quick, hard blow on Thor's temple. In that split second that Thor was dazed, Arawn swept Thor's feet from under him. Arawn was on his brother in a moment.

Arawn jabbed his fists repeatedly into Thor's diaphragm in quick succession, then aimed another at his face. Then Arawn rolled him over, his arm snaking around Thor's neck, arms applying pressure to the main veins there, the rest of his body holding the others down. Thor's muscles strained, but Arawn was able to keep him there through sheer stubbornness, sweat pouring down and muscle shaking, but not giving an inch.

Then suddenly he reared back, and slammed down his elbow on the back of Thor's neck. His brother's eyes rolled and down he went. Arawn followed him, hands slapping onto the ground as he panted, his hair covering his face as he shakily got to his feet. He wrapped an arm around his midsection, and Loki narrowed his eyes. _They must be broken, and not cracked for him to be holding them like that._

Arawn let his eyes scan around the silent, shocked crowd, stopping Thor's merry band of men in their tracks. "If I hear _any_ word from any of you against my father's honor, or mine, it will be a fight to the death."

Arawn swept out of the room, followed by Morrigan, who sent an ominous growl through the room before they exited. Thor's 'friends' rushed to his side, but Loki quickly followed his son as the room exploded with noise behind him. He smirked proudly at the thought that his son had just beaten Asgard's golden boy. He soon arrived at his sons door, and sent out a questioning curl of magic. Arawn answered with a welcoming one, and he opened the door.

Arawn was sitting on the end of the bed, a softly glowing yellow hand pressed to his ribs. Morrigan was sprawled out behind him, and he was using her as a prop. He shut the door, then turned and leaned on it, thumbs tucking into the pockets of his pants.

"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked quietly, knowing his son knew what he meant.

Arawn snorted, his hair moving in a slight shake. "Not really. A group of kids asked about Morri, so I started explaining and, well..." He sighed out a laugh. "I got carried away."

"And then Thor." His lips quirked slightly in bitter amusement.

"Yea." Arawn finally looked at up at then, and Loki gave him a tired smile. He went over and sat at his side, leaning against Morrigan as well as he casually placed his hand on Arawn's. He channeled his sorcery into the healing his son was doing, finishing in a minute what would have taken almost an hour.

"Hmm, you're shape-changing is paying off. You were much more focused this time." The yellow eyes lit in excitement then, such a strong change that it caught Loki completely off guard. "Oh! Last night, after dinner, I convinced grandma to teach me healing! She thinks it will help my control too!"

Loki couldn't stop the smile at his sons enthusiasm. "She would be correct, it will help. You may want to try the chief healer in medical as well, if you're truly interested."

Arawn opened his mouth to reply, but a quiet knock silenced him. "Brother, nephew...may I enter?" Thor called from the other side, voice calm and surprisingly solemn.

"Let him in," Morrigan said with a yawn, and making both of them glare at her. _"You know he feels guilty about what happened, and if he's guilty, he regrets it. Regret is good."_

Arawn's face tightened, but he nodded. Loki stood and opened the door, ushering Thor in with a slightly mocking wave of his hand. His brother made a face at him as he entered, then hung his head as Loki closed the door.

"I came to apologize, to both of you. I...could have approached the situation differently."

Loki just tilted his head to the side as he examined the man standing in front of him. "Quietly would have been a good start."

"Uncle, I accept. I don't wish for anymore fights." Arawn said quickly, burying his face in Morrigan's furry neck. His voice was tired, and Thor shot him a look before his face softened when he looked at Arawn.

"Loki, and you?" Thor said with a bit of bite, and Loki smiled broadly with all his teeth.

"I accept." Thor smiled in relief, then his smile turned mocking. "However, I will beat some sense into you very soon, brother."

Thor's return smile was a bit blood thirsty, a bit darker then what Loki was used to. "I look forward to it, Loki. I was wondering, brother, nephew, if you'd join me on a hunt tonight, and we can roast boar under the stars."

Loki glanced at Arawn, but Morrigan nodded for him. "We accept Thor. At what time would you like us to meet you?"

Now Thor's face was beaming. "An hour before sunset Lady Morrigan. Shall we take the horses?"

_"How would you like to hunt as a wolf?"_ Morrigan's voice was sly, and Thor looked confused as Loki narrowed his eyes at her in surprise.

_"Do not volunteer our services, my dear, so willingly,"_ he muttered.

"A wolf, milady? I have no magics like that…"

_"You will see,"_ was all she said.

An hour before sunset they met outside the stables. Morrigan grinned, showing her teeth, and padded over to Arawn. She pressed her nose to his chest, and a wave of red sorcery washed over her, and then onto him. As soon as it settled onto his skin, he blinked.

"No shit?" he breathed, eyes wide.

_"All you have to do is shape it,"_ she returned, puffing with pride.

Arawn grinned widely, hands raising. "Well then."

"Arawn, what-" was all Thor got out before he smoothly transitioned into a wolf. He stumbled on his sudden four feet, then looked back and gaped at his tail.

_"This is most strange...and wonderous."_ He looked back at Morrigan with new respect and took a few steps forward. _"I can understand now why you both take this form so often."_

Both he and Arawn shifted forms after that, and the four of them went into the wilds of Asgard, only shifting back when Loki caught a large boar. They set up camp while Morrigan gnawed on a deer she had taken down, and Loki did something for his brother and his son that he hadn't done since they were children.

He used his magic and his inherent affinity for fire to create illusions from the flame, spinning tales from their childhood and others he had heard on Midgard. The night ended with laughter and full bellies, and Loki went to sleep with a smile on his face.

The Thor of that night was how he often liked to remember his brother. Open, curious, laughing...

After that however, the last year before Thor would take Odin's place, was a living hell for him.

Arawn and Morrigan tried to do their best, but there was nothing they could do about the growing darkness in him, the madness that flirted with the edges of his mind. He was always bitter, and his relationship with his brother was growing strained because of it. Thor could not see Odin as he did, could not see himself as Loki did, could not see what it was that made him so unhappy. He felt like a child with his feelings and thoughts, but he could not change them, no matter what he did.

He stopped talking to Odin all together, except when forced to. Most of his time was spent in his rooms reading, or out in the gardens with Morrigan. Arawn often joined him, but he was making an effort to try and teach Thor that there was more to being a king then having your people worship you, and making war. He was still set on destroying all of the frost giants, despite the lessons that Arawn tried to hammer into his skull. It was one such afternoon when Arawn came storming into his chambers, a frustrated, disgusted look on his face. Even Morrigan was bristling with it.

Loki just sighed silently, and closed the book.

"My uncle is a thick skulled idiot, that can't tell his own ass from a hole in the ground!" As he spoke, Arawn poured himself a glass of mead, and downed it.

Loki cocked an eyebrow. Arawn rarely drank. "What has my foolish brother done now?"

" _Nothing!_ That's the problem! He won't listen to me! He still has the plans to start another war with Jotunheim after he is made king." He ran his hands over and over again through his hair, messing up the wavy, red locks and making it stick in every direction. "He just doesn't get it! We have the Casket, so all they have left is their affinity to ice. They would be slaughtered!"

"Thor doesn't care," he said quietly.

"I know! Ugh, I'm done. I'm sick of trying. We're going out for a run, want to join us?" He turned towards the door, as Loki considered. Thinking that a run will do him good, he set the book down and stood, stretching.

"Did you want to run as wolves?" he asked, as he followed his son through the palace and to the ground out back.

Arawn didn't even answer, just shifted his form, and Loki followed suit. They just ran, well into the night, not arriving back at the palace until dawn. Then all three collapsed into Loki's bed, Arawn sandwiched between Morrigan and Loki, and fell into dreamless sleep.

That year was all about Thor's coronation. The man himself – Loki loathed to call him brother anymore – became absolutely insufferable. His head was filled with glorious plans to hunt down and destroy the frost giants, of the different ways he would make Asgard _proud_ and _shining_ once again. He positively soaked in all the admiration everyone was giving him, telling him what a wonderful king he would be. His cocky attitude was grating and demeaning to them, since he often ordered them around, or tried to.

Loki, Arawn, and Morrigan spent as much time out of the palace as they could, until his mother called them on it. Then, it was only three months until the coronation, and Loki got into the worst fight with his father that he could remember having.

"Loki, my son, I cannot have you out of the palace when there are so many things to be done!" Odin said sternly, fixing his youngest with a glare.

Loki had to bite his tongue. Hard. "I did not realize my absence was missed, father." He winced on the inside, but held his pleasant mask. So much for biting his tongue. That came out far more bitter then he would have liked.

Odin frowned. "You have duties as Prince of Asgard-"

His short, bitter bark of a laugh stopped the words, and made Odin's face thunderous. Frigga looked pained from where she was sitting next to her husband.

" _Duties._ " His voice was scathing. He knew he should watch his words, to be careful, but this ugly emotion was gnawing at his chest, ripping his heart apart, and digging sharp claws into his mind. "Duties to follow after Thor, to be his shadow, to tell people what a _great_ and _glorious_ king he will be? _Spare me._ Thor will begin his rule with blood and death, and you are to blind to see it!" He snapped his mouth shut and carefully pulled his mask back, forcing his harsh breathing to calm. He tilted his head down. "Forgive me father." The words turned to ash on his tongue.

"You do not know the pressures of ruling Loki," Odin said quietly, proving his very point, and blood filled Loki's mouth. He had bitten through his tongue. "Do not begrudge your brother for his thoughts and wishes. They are different from actions."

He tried to keep his words in. A litany was running through his head of 'keep your mouth shut, don't say a word', and he tried. However, a slow, sick smile spread his lips, and he felt a trickle of blood creep from the corner of his mouth and roll down his skin. He slowly raised his head, and took vicious satisfaction at the flinch he saw come from his father.

"Begrudge? _Begrudge?_ I do no such thing, father," he said, purposely keeping his tone sickly sweet and malicious. "Why, I would never tell him to stop his thoughts on _killing an entire race_. I even try to give him advice, to try to look at the bigger picture, but I will never _begrudge_ him his small minded views on the world. _Never_ would I-"

"Loki!"

He snapped his mouth shut at his mother's sharp word, hanging his head as he swallowed a mouthful of blood. He didn't look up even as he felt her presence in front of him, her hand coming out to wipe the liquid from his chin.

"My son. Your brother is…drunk with the thought of power right now. His mind and ambitions will cool with time."

He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow disbelievingly. He could tell that she truly believed that, and forced his words back with another swallow. "Of course mother." No matter how much he hated his father, and disliked his brother at the moment, he could never speak sharply to her. She was the only one that was equally on his side, as much as she was on Thor's. He had never gotten the sense that she loved one of them above the other.

With her, they had always been equal.

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek, and without saying another word, turned and strode out of the throne room. His feet took him to the large training courtyard where he heard growls and grunts, and he stopped in the shadows at what he found.

Arawn and Morrigan were sparring, her fur changed into armor, and she was dodging the lightning quick strikes of his sons blades. With a smirk, he created a clone and sent it into the melee, as he changed his clothing to battle leathers. He was impressed when neither of them broke stride, immediately turning to the new threat like the team they were.

He switched himself with the clone, and had to dodge out of the way of a lethal strike from Morrigan's claws, only to be forced into a battle with Arawn. He was able to keep them both at bay with a mix of weapons and magic, and when Arawn's blade went for his throat, he had a very evil idea.

He dodged and held out a hand, summoning the weapon that had chosen him. In a flash of gold light, Gungnir appeared in his hand, and he smirked at the roar of outrage from the throne room. He twirled and settled into a new stance with the spear pointed at them, and smirked widely. Arawn just shook his head, laughing, and twirled the daggers in his hands.

They fought for the remainder of the day, Loki giving them pointers on how to work as a team against a stronger opponent. He was able to look back on memories of him and Thor without the bitterness, searching them for anything that would help his son and partner.

Sunset found him stripped down to his leather pants, cross-legged on the side of the ring with Gungnir held loosely across his lap. The night breeze was cooling his heated skin as he watched with sharp eyes.

"Arawn! Use your legs more! Morrigan! Turn your tail into a weapon and use that. It will give you an advantage." They both just nodded to him and followed his directions, and he settled back again. It was then that a familiar presence settled at his side, and he smiled easily over at his brother. The exercise had done him good in releasing the stress.

"You wield Gungnir well brother," Thor said with a large grin, and Loki shrugged easily, absently running a finger over the golden length.

"Staffs and spears have always been favorites of mine Thor, you know this."

"Ah, and daggers."

Loki chuckled quietly, grinning. "Yes, well, they are far more subtle then Mjolnir."

"Ha! I cannot deny that claim brother. Though Mjolnir has little reason to be subtle."

Loki just nodded in agreement, and they fell silent as they continued to watch the two. It was peaceful for the next hour, as the two sat and called out tips to Arawn and Morrigan, often getting a snarling responses that made them laugh.

Then, "Dinner is ready. Mother requested me to come get you and my nephew."

Just like that his good mood was gone, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I will not be dining with you tonight brother."

"But, Loki-"

He held up a hand, stopping his brother. "No Thor. Father and I…got into it today, as Arawn says. I have no wish to see him again anytime soon."

Thor gave him a knowing look – their spats had been happening more frequently – and stood. "Arawn! Will you and Lady Morrigan be joining us for dinner?"

They stopped, and Arawn looked at Loki questioningly. He shook his head, and Arawn shrugged. "No thanks uncle. Oh! But tell grandmother that I need my book of herbs back."

Thor frowned, and Loki smiled slightly in pride. Arawn just rolled his eyes as he and Morrigan walked over. "They're for healing uncle. There is a child down in the city that I need to make a tonic for."

"Will you not let the healers handle it?"

Arawn held out his arms, showing newly tattooed runes that curved along his forearms, nearly covering them entirely. They were the same tattoos that only belonged to three people on Asgard. Arawn, Frigga, and Bjorg, the man in charge of all the palace healers. Thor blinked, and bent down to get a closer look, careful not to touch them. They had powerful magics written into them, and it took them as long to heal as if they were mortal. There was currently a thin yellow shield around them, protecting them until the magics had settled in.

"When did you become a Master Healer, nephew?"

Arawn puffed up in pride. "Almost a week ago now. Grandmother has been a great help."

Thor glared at Loki accusingly. "You never said anything."

Loki just shrugged, but Arawn growled. "It was my choice, uncle. I didn't want anyone to know until I achieved the status, and you haven't been around in over two weeks."

Thor had the grace to blush, and Loki smirked to see it. "I apologize nephew. I have been…busy lately."

"Yea, going out on hunts with your friends and ignoring your family," Arawn muttered bitterly, and Loki flinched slightly to hear it, anger building again. Arawn had loved spending time with Thor, back before everything had begun to fall apart.

"That was not my intention, nephew," Thor said quietly, looking truly contrite. Then he brightened. "Tomorrow! Tomorrow we shall spend the day together, and you can tell me all about your new title, mighty Wolf Brother."

Arawn just snickered at the title Odin had bestowed on him, and nodded. "Alright uncle. Tomorrow. But I swear, if you back out of this, I will never forgive you."

Thor smiled brightly, and nodded. "Tomorrow morning at the gates then?"

Arawn nodded. "Tomorrow at the gates."

The morning came swiftly, and Loki stood with Arawn at the gates as morning began to give way to afternoon, and his heart clenched in his chest. Arawn looked at the sun, eyes glittering with tears he'd never shed, and he just shook his head sadly. Swallowing his own emotions, Loki put a hand on his sons shoulder, and smiled slightly when he looked at him.

"I will accompany you to the city my son, if you'd like."

Arawn looked away, a sad smile on his face as he reached up and squeezed his hand once. "Thanks dad."

That day was the beginning of the end of everything that had been true in their lives. That day, something changed in them, father and son, that would never be fixed again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part in the series, following the growing relationship between Loki and his adopted son Arawn, and everything that comes with being a family.   
> This series will be updated around the beginning of every month.


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